Silver Memories
by BlackSilks
Summary: Nametter life is normal for a young adult, trying to be the best Namette can while still paying the bills and hanging with Nametter friends. Until, that is, the backup generator fails to kick in and Namette're stranded in darkness. This IS a Namette inser
1. Chapter 1

THIS STORY HAS BEEN BASTARDIZED BY ! FOR THE CORRECT, BETTER, VERSION VISIT ANY OTHER DECENT FANFICTION SITE SUCH AS: Archive of Our own, or DeviantART.

"Would Namette like to hear a story?

Good, are Namette listening? Make Nametterself comfortable, grab a blanket if Namette can, lay down or even sit down, and relax. I don't know how Namette feel right now, I can imagine it is cold and dark where Namette are, but then I really can't tell.

Oh, but I'm sorry, I almost started from the end and that just won't do. Every story, every life, begins the same. And to make it short, it's a beginning, it's birth. Hearing of Nametter birth though would not make much of a difference, Namette know more about it than I could ever tell Namette, and for all intents and purposes it is unnecessary for me to repeat what Namette already Nametterself know.  
But all stories have a beginning, a middle and an end. Namette learnt this in school, Namette wrote it for Nametter test, Namette memorized it then discarded it as unnecessary information later on.  
But let me tell Namette something, each story has a beggining.

And Nametter story ends the same way it begins... In darkness."

Namette smiled, a sigh of relief escaping Nametter lips as Namette hear the rustling of Nametter colleagues packing up calling an end to the day. Not for Namette, of course, having worked so hard to finally get where Namette were, Namette also were expected to keep up the same level of devotion to the company. Having taken upon Nametterself the role as honorary supervisor to Nametter project (without actually reaping the rewards apart from a, possible, pat on the shoulder and a warm "Thank Namette"), more often than not Namette'd stay after work for maybe an hour, helping Nametter actual supervisor and team lead filling out reports and providing solutions or brainstorming necessary ideas for the day to come.

It could be a bit tedious of a job, but it gave Namette a living, and to be fair with Nametterself, Namette quite enjoyed working.

It thus of course came as no surprise as Cathelyn, the actual leader of the project, approached Namette with the request to double check some fact and make sure the progress was steady, and accepted the small pile of documents to go over.

Namette sighed, enjoyed the calm and peace of the office, the quiet silence soothing Nametter frazzled nerves , like a balm for Nametter still ringing ears. Working with hundreds of people in a relatively moderate sized office, where talking and joking was allowed and quite frequent, the decibel levels where a bit elevated during the day. On Fridays one could hear Rebecca Black screeching "It's friday, friday" in the halls, while on Mondays mourning songs and songs filled with doom filled the office area. Namette were happy Namette didn't work at a call-center anymore, but could definitely attest for the matching decibel levels during the day.

Namette concentrated and hadn't been working for 25 minutes when the power cut out. The entire office was suddenly bathed in blackness so thick Namette thought Namette could taste it, the air charged with the static of thousands of suddenly dead computers releasing their pent up energy into the air.  
Nametter groan was eerily loud in the now completely silent, quite large room, annoyed at all the progress Namette had lost. Great, Namette thought to Nametterself, extra work for me later.  
Cathelyn opened her door, which Namette could only tell by the general location of the sound of the door opening, shuffling quietly towards Nametter seat. Namette heard a bump, a moan of pain, then heard her get closer before Namette could feel her presence at the general area Namette were sitting at.  
"Namette?" her whisper broke the tense air, and Namette let out a sigh Namette had no idea why or even that Namette had been holding.

"Yeah I'm here, what happened?" Namette whisper back, [E/C] eyes blown wide open trying to discern anything in the inky blackness.

"The power went out." her statement of the obvious almost made Nametter eyes roll, but a strange shuffling sound on the other far end made Namette both hold Nametter breath quickly, heads turning toward the sound.

Voice lowering even more Namette turn Nametter head towards the general vicinity where Cath had been standing "Y-Namette think theres-" Nametter whisper is cut off as the woman calls out, a slight shake in her voice.

"H-hello? Is anyone t-there?"

Her question seems to be met with even more deafening silence, pressing down on Nametter ears.  
Namette feel and hear her moving closer to Namette, settling a hand on the back of Nametter chair.  
"The emergency lights should be coming up any moment now... back up generators here are quite old so they take a while to recognize the failure." she murmurs but Namette can hear a slight tremble in her voice.

This is stupid, Namette think. We're not 7 anymore, hiding under the blankets with the fear of the darkness. Namette would be able to see anything at all with the phone Namette have. Namette want to smack Nametterself as Namette remember the tiny light in Nametter phone as Namette pull it out.

"How about we call it a night?" Namette murmur, pulling the phone out of Nametter pocket. Namette fumble with it, turning the back light on and pointing it at the entrance of the offices, which, of course, was completely and utterly devoid of human life.

Cath's murmur of agreement is cut in half as another shuffling sound is heard, closer to Namette this time, at the same time as a loud "Bzzt" fills the room, the red otherworldly glow of the emergency lights filling the area. And it is then that Nametter heart stops. Namette barely register Cathelyns surprised scream, as Namette stare wide eyed, at the figure standing not even 3 rows away from Namette. It is tall, very tall, all dressed in black or something of the sort, as the red light barely lets Namette distinguish it's contours let alone any coloring. Namette can tell from the shadows cast on his face that the figure, unsure if male or female, wore a hoody pulled low over it's face. Namette couldn't actually see any part of the face apart from its chin, which seemed to shine in the red light drifting from the walls. Unable to tell the color due to the hue, it seemed more like a glossy mask than actual skin. The figure stood for not even a second before it turned and fled the room, movements graceful and almost feline, even as Namette called after it to wait. It seemed to falter slightly at the sound of Nametter voice, but Namette put it down to Nametter imagination as it turned the corner and was gone.

Namette both shared a moment of silence, absolutely baffled by the events, before sharing a look, grabbing Nametter personal belongings and bolting out of the room. Cathelyn was on the phone with the reception desk who really hadn't heard anything and had been able to turn on the light due to a malfunction in the original back up generator.

As she finally hung up, she turned to face Namette as Namette both stood at the exit of the building, unwilling to leave the still red light of the building and start Nametter journey home.  
"Namette think that was just some employee?" Namette ask finally, breaking the uncomfortable silence between the both of Namette. She shrugs, pulling her coat closer to her body.

"I don't know to be honest. And I'm also not about to call the police because... I mean..." she trails off with another shrug, pulling her bag further up her shoulder.

Namette let out a small laugh, nodding, the put Nametter hand to Nametter ear as if holding a phone "Yes, uh, hi? The power died at our company and when it came back up there was a person standing in the room with us who then left after we screamed bloody murder." Namette let Nametter hand fall down, an amused sound still clinging to Nametter sigh. "We're nut jobs and that definitely was nothing."

She nods her agreement, yet still holding onto her jacket like her life depended on it, forcing it closed over her small frame. "In any case, Namette, it's getting late. Namette want a ride? My husbands picking me up in a little." it's a well meant offer but Namette also know she lives the complete opposite way of Nametter own place and would mean an almost 2 hour detour to her journey.

"Nah, it's fine. Look, we got a bit of a scare but to be honest... it probably was just someone from the company below and, well, probably for embarrassed for being on the wrong floor or something." Namette reason, trying to make Nametterself believe Nametter story.

Namette nod, as Namette sling Nametter own bag over Nametter shoulder, taking a few steps outside of the building. It's not cold, yet not warm either, the end of January bringing a few cold showers with it while some flowers break from the almost frozen ground here and there. Namette can't help but smile as Namette wave goodbye to the blonde woman shouting a quick "See Namette tomorrow" before stepping into the night.

A/N:

Hey, uhm, so, this may not be my first fanfiction but it is the first in quite a while, as well as the first Eyeless Jack AND reader insert I've ever done. Inspiration: Life.  
About the story:

-Please be aware that the reader here is female, and although I tried writing without a gender in mind, sadly the gender just kind of... developed.  
-Namette DO have a job, so be prepared for a desk job. I imagined reader being 20+ but if Namette squint hard enough Namette can make Nametterself Namettenger (also, quite devoted to Nametter career).  
-Also, I apologize, however due to the current state of the story, Nametter friends have been handpicked and named for Namette (hope Namette don't mind)  
\- Please replace Namette with Nametter own name, [E/C] with Nametter eye color, [H/L] with Nametter hair length etc etc. Most os these things will be easy to guess what they are due to context.

\- I tried getting as much info on Jack as possible, however I am currently very new to the whole pastas. If anyone wants to give me a quick message and I can chat with em about ideas and stuff, I'd most gladly take the offer.

I do NOT promise I will be updating any time soon, as I sadly am quite the career focused freak and haven't written anything in years. I hope my muses don't desert me.  
And last but not least, I don't own anything that could get me sued.


	2. Chapter 2

THIS STORY HAS BEEN BASTARDIZED BY ! FOR THE CORRECT, BETTER, VERSION VISIT ANY OTHER DECENT FANFICTION SITE SUCH AS: Archive of Our own, or DeviantART.

Chapter 2.

The moment Namette step onto the road back home Namette stick Nametter ear buds into Nametter ears, pulling up Nametter favorite tunes onto Nametter phone. Namette check to see if Namette had gotten any new messages, the light of the phone throwing a pale glow on Nametter face, as Namette slowly make Nametter way to the bus stop that would take Namette almost directly to Namette house. Sure enough a message from Nametter best friend waits. As Namette swipe Nametter finger to reply, another message pops onto the screen, "Jess" glaring at Namette over the countless messages she has sent.

Jess: Hey, Im going 2 tis bar rlly close to ur place, wanna hang?

Jess: Hey, yo, S'up? Comin?

Jess: Ok srsly, u ignore me nd m tellin every1 about ur lil' misshap 2 weeks ago

Jess : Namette, u've not said nythin 4 2 weeks. U owe me!

Namette sigh, rolling Nametter eyes, knowing she won't let up until Namette give in and actually go. Namette laugh as another message pops onto the screen, this time showing the chubby face of Jess, head pulled back, frowning, middle finger sticking up pulling her "ugly face". She's a bubbly character, that's for sure. Under the picture "Cunt" is written in her scribbly handwriting and Namette laugh. Even if Namette're not a fan of curses, those were a given with Nametter friend Namette've known for the last 7 years of Nametter life.

As Namette type a quick reply of "Sure, Rosepark right? Be there in an hour or so" the earlier occurrence nearly slips Nametter mind.

Nearly.

As Namette near the bus stop Namette can see a few people standing around in the cooling night air. Namette're not used to so many people hanging around the stop so Namette near one of the passenger Namette know usually takes the bus that comes a few minutes after Nametters.

"Hey, sorry to bother but... what's going on?" Namette question, looking down the road anticipating the bus.

"Ah, seems there was an accident further down the road due to the ice and a truck spilled water bottles all over the road, so they had to cut off the road because the waters freezing over." she sounds annoyed, so Namette don't pry further and sigh. Grabbing Nametter phone Namette think over whom to call, Jess being the first one to cross Nametter mind. Pressing the call function Nametter hear the music blaring as Namette wait for her to pick up.

"Namette! Hey what's up my silly little banana! Namette there yet?" Namette can hear her father doing something in the background, a loud thud then a squeal. Her sisters are at it again.

"Nah, I don't think I can make it unless Namette pick me up through the back roads. Bloody roads been cut off, some accident and ice or what not." She groans, then the phone rustles as she goes to do something, Namette assume ask her dad about the car. The air is getting colder Namette notice, pulling the scarf one handedly out of Nametter bag and wrapping it around Nametter throat. Nametter eyes get stuck on the forest behind Namette, suddenly reminded of the figure that had been standing in the office... what if...

Nametter train of thought is cut short as her voice comes back on the phone.

"Crap, I'm sorry, my step ma just took the car and won't be back for the next 3 or so hours, Martha apparently twisted her ankle on the way home. So I can't even get to Rosepark either. Shit sorry... what about a taxi?" her voice is very apologetic and Namette know her well enough to know that at this point she's eating herself alive in guilt for not being able to help.

"Can't, won't get paid till the end of the week and I really can't afford to spend 40 bucks on a ride I can do by foot." Namette reply, starting Nametter trek down the road. Namette make sure to stay to the side of the road which isn't alongside the small forest that Nametter company is bordering.

"Namette sure? I mean, it's a what, hour and a half walk?" her voice is doubtful, but Namette shrug it off.

"It's ok, seriously, don't worry, I mean, I've walked this a thousand times before." only tonight is a little different because Namette're starting to get chills, not able to put away nor forget the faceless identity Namette'd seen in the office earlier.

"Not at night though." Jess replies, and Namette find Nametterself slightly annoyed at her before calming down slightly. No reason to be annoyed at someone who obviously was not at fault here, especially if Namette were just being paranoid anyways.

"Yeah, but, to be honest, I'm a grown ass girl and Namette know that Jess. And in any case, if anything happens to me, I can always moan at Namette about it later." Namette reply, a slight laugh that Namette can't really feel, accompanying it.

Namette stop walking as Namette hear something crack behind Namette, like someone stepping on twigs. Namette stare, then sigh as a lone squirrel dashes out of the forest, across the street, then up the oak in front one of the buildings.

Just breathe, Namette, Namette think, turning back around to keep on the march back home.

Jess is still prattling on and on but Namette drone her out then sigh, as Namette feel shivers course though Nametter body again.

Deciding that music would definitely chill Namette out, Namette quickly reassure Jess Namette'll be fine and hang up, almost without giving her time to put in another word, the music starting up almost instantly.

Drowning out the world with the upbeat sound and humming along quietly, Namette most definitely do not notice the two dark spots surrounded in darkness, observing Namette, watching Namette, as Namette leave the gates of the industrial estate.


	3. Chapter 3

THIS STORY HAS BEEN BASTARDIZED BY ! FOR THE CORRECT, BETTER, VERSION VISIT ANY OTHER DECENT FANFICTION SITE SUCH AS: Archive of Our own, or DeviantART.

Chapter 3.

The long trek home isn't usually unpleasant. When the weather dries up and Namette can walk without getting drenched, Namette often take this path instead of taking the bus, clearing Nametter head of any thoughts that might plague Namette, stretching Nametter legs after a long day in front of the computer. Namette're not exactly a health freak, or Namette wouldn't call Nametterself that, with Nametter [body type] stature, but the trek has recently been doing wonders to Nametter head and legs, so Namette decided to take this path and forego the bus ride if the chance arose.

However, today for once, Namette didn't feel as confident in Nametter stride as Namette did usually. While Nametter eyes would roam on a normal day, observing the occasional wild life around Namette as Namette stuck to the road, with curiosity and a slight skip in Nametter step, today Nametter steps were rushed. Nametter eyes kept wandering to the side of the road closer to the forest, the usual path Namette took discarded in favor of the safety of the short division that the road posed. Namette diverted Nametter eyes from the thick vegetation, eyes only grazing the surface of the forest, it's innards giving nothing but blackness for Nametter perusal.

The music kept Namette distracted and a bit more relaxed than if Namette'd decided not to hear it, however the still imposing presence of the trees, their long branches reaching out as if to grab onto anything, did keep Namette uncomfortable.

Ah what are Namette thinking Namette, Namette chided Nametterself, shaking Nametter head at Nametter silly thoughts, voice losing its frightened hint as Namette mouthed along to the song, the voice of that singer, the one Namette love so much, dang forgot the name, filling Nametter head with lyrics. Nametter eyes, of course, sneaky little devils, snuck a look at the trees along side Namette. Namette stop. Namette look again. Nametter mind was playing tricks on Namette, surely picking up on Nametter paranoia. Namette could have sworn... for a second... just a second, Namette thought Namette had seen something blue flash in the light of the streets, however as Nametter eyes roam over the trees again Namette shrug. Paranoia sure is a funny thing.

As Namette start the trek again, Namette feel uncomfortable. Like ants crawling over Nametter back, a slimy feeling on Nametter skin Namette do not like at all. It feel like someone's behind Namette,, watching, but each time Namette turn, there's nothing there. Nametter pace picks up speed, but the presence Namette think is following Namette does not seem to let up. Nametter mind races for a short while, before Namette stop dead in Nametter tracks again. Namette pull out the earbuds, the silence after the music left Nametter ears engulfing Namette quite quickly, as Namette pause the current song. Nametter ears strain for any sound. Namette hear a rustling as a soft yet cold breeze makes Namette pull Nametter coat on tighter, scarf tucked safely into it, but apart from that? Nothing.

Namette groan inwardly, resuming the walk as well as the music, as Namette place the buds back into Nametter ears, paying extra attention to the lyrics this time so as to keep Nametter mind occupied. Nametter eyes stay stubbornly on the ground now, refusing to roam the trees for any sign of movement. The feeling returns almost instantly, but Namette raise Nametter voice a little bit louder, singing along with the now blaring song as Nametter steps quicken yet again. Namette know it's paranoia, but to hell with it.

Namette don't run, Namette tell Nametterself as Nametter steps pound against the floor. It's just fast walking, Nametter starving, Namette want the warmth of Nametter room. Namette aren't fooled by Nametterself.

As Namette get closer and closer to Nametter house, the more of an ominous feeling Namette get. It's shivers and Goosebumps and Namette absolutely refuse to turn around.

Namette throw open the door to Nametter house, step in, know that any glasses at this point would be fogged with the heat regardless, and slam the door shut. Namette glimpse outside through the windows surrounding the parlor but see nothing but nighttime, cars and lit houses.

Nametter face red from the not-running Namette had done, Namette collapse onto a couch, not noticing one of Nametter roommates giving Namette an odd look as Namette remove the buds and turn off the music.

"Namette?"

Namette yelp, hand held close to Nametter heart trying to calm it, as Namette stare at her.

"Sorry, Ange, it's uh... it's been a weird day." Namette mumble, running a hand through Namette mildly sweaty [H/C] hair, a feeling of utter exhaustion overcoming Namette.

"Huh... well, bills are in but, look, we can split them up tomorrow. Namette look like death dragged Namette in I swear. Get some rest." Namette wouldn't call her a friend of Nametters, per se, but she was a nice girl and she helped when really needed.

"I think I will... night Ange." Namette mutter, standing up and moving to Nametter room as her "Night Namette" followed Namette.

Once in Nametter room Namette quickly close the curtains, unwilling to have anything to do with the ink-like night outside. For once Namette dreaded Nametter choice to have put Nametter bed right underneath the main window. Although lovely during summer and spring due to the scents that wafted in when the window was open, during winter and autumn the window became cold... it was also the first time Namette dreaded it not because of the cold but simply because of how near to the outside world Namette were, being on the first floor of the house.

Namette shrugged of the feeling again, unclothing and donning on Nametter favorite yet warmest pajamas Namette has, a book already waiting invitingly on Nametter bed. Namette thought Namette'd read a bit before Namette fell asleep.

Nametter head connected with the pillow and Namette fell asleep instantly.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4.

You wake up to a screech.

One of your housemates is awake at 7 in the morning, screaming. You groan, hiding your head under the pillows, yesterday completely forgotten for now.

You grudgingly remove your head from under the pillow, sitting up and rubbing your bleary tired eyes. Since you're up already, might as well get up and at em. You grab your shower things, quickly debating on what to wear, before deciding on something more comfortable, the clouds quite dark and heavy. It was sure to rain today.

As you head for the open door of the bathroom you hear your housemate, who you now can identify as Rachel, talking and mumbling to herself about stupid cats and something. The smell of blood instantly assaults your senses, and still having a sensitive morning nose your stomach turnes almost instantly.

"Everything ok Rach?" you ask, trying not to throw up on the spot and congratulating yourself at thefeat of keeping your tone neutral. You're not friends either, none of your housemates are, but you barely see her anyways so you never actually bothered getting to know her too well.

Her head shoots up at you, eyes narrowed in annoyance as she nods.

"Yeah, I think Dusty caught a bird this morning and tore it up to pieces in front of the door step. Almost stepped on it too." she sighed, sniffing then gagging slightly as the scent of blood reached her nose. Dusty, your resident cat, did not usually bring home presents, but you don't put it past him, or Jaques your tabby cat, to bring you a dead rat every once in a while. "Spoiled little brats", you mumble, heading to the bathroom, towel in hand.

It's two hours after, freshly showered and breakfast eaten, that you arrive at work, Cath already waving you over with some papers in hand.

"Morning [Name]." She says, and it's then you notice that the office is very quiet for a Friday. There's a heavy sort of atmosphere lingering, no music blaring, even Rebecca Black stays mysteriously missing from her almost ritualistic fridarian concert over Youtube, courtesy of one of your colleagues. You turn towards Cath, accepting the papers with questioning eyes.

Seemingly understanding the question Cath shakes her head sadly.

"There's... been an accident of some sort. We lost one of our colleagues today." Your eyes widen, yet you manage to inquire about their identity with a hushed voice.

"Roberts, he... we don't really know what happened yet, but it seems he was found this morning, dead so..." she trails of and you nod in understanding, squeezing her shoulder for comfort before taking your seat. Not that you knew Roberts well, since you'd only seen him around the office a couple of times, but still, he was a fellow colleague and any loss, no matter if known or not, was something to be respected and adopt a somber mood (or at least appear as such even if just to not aggravate the friends of the deceased).

The day went past you like a blur, people mourning, some people oblivious, but all you could think about was the mystery from yesterday. You'd woken up this morning feeling tired, but unafraid but now, the previous day rushing back to the forefront of your mind, you wondered what if... what if the figure you'd seen was, indeed, guilty of this murder?

You shake your head, trying to get rid of these thoughts. No, Roberts had had an accident, that was it, Cath had said so, and that figure, you were sure, was nothing to worry about. Least of all, one thing had nothing to do with the other. The figure had given no signs of intent, you knew nothing of it and probably would never see it again. Maybe you'd watched a few too many detective movies at this point and needed to take a break. You eye the book in your bag as if it was to blame before returning to the current document in front of you. Best stop thinking about it before you get paranoid again.

As you finally pack up alongside your peers, Cath having left a bit early today and thus being off duty on time, your eyes drift outside. It's pouring, a welcome change from the ice that had caused so many problems yesterday, and you sigh satisfied. You wouldn't dare walk home in this weather and something in your belly uncoils and relaxes.

You follow the mass outside, sharing "Good weekends" hugs, "Goodbyes" and "See you laters" as you go, bag slung over your shoulder. Someone asks if you'll go to Roseparks tonight, but your eyes droop and your back aches at just the thought. You decline with a smile, informing the guy that you might pop by on Saturday. Your tired muscles almost groan in relief. Finally outside the building you keep up with the mass, not wanting to be left behind or alone. Even the hairs on your neck stand on end, even as you try to engross yourself in a conversation with your desk colleague. You keep getting distracted and she soon gives up, as you shift your eyes nervously along the forest line. You feel like you're being watched, but again, you tell yourself, that can't be right.

As the majority of the people disperse into cars, the opposite way or into their own bus stations you take your usual spot at the bus stop, happy to be early for once, meaning you can retire early and have a head start tomorrow. You sigh in relief as the bus shows and you step in, giving the driver a small wave which he returns with a nod. As you sit, you let your eyes wonder around the forest from behind the relative safety of the glass and surrounded by people. Then you stop and stare. Is that-?

There, standing in between the dark trees as if it belonged is a tall figure you can barely recognize as male, a hoody pulled over his head, a blue, yes, definitely blue, mask or something covering his face. You still can't see his eyes, he's too far away and the street lamp is not bright enough to reach into the pools of ink that the trees cast on the ground, but you can definitely tell that this was the same guy from yesterday, just by his posture and slightly lanky build. You shiver, quickly diverting your eyes to see if anyone else had noticed him and upon finding that no, you were the only one you return your eyes to the same spot only to find that, indeed, he's gone. You rub your eyes, knowing that they're not playing tricks on you, and lean back in the seat, eyes roaming the front of the forest.

You were scared.

Little did you know this was only the beginning.


	5. Chapter 5

THIS STORY HAS BEEN BASTARDIZED BY ! FOR THE CORRECT, BETTER, VERSION VISIT ANY OTHER DECENT FANFICTION SITE SUCH AS: Archive of Our own, or DeviantART.

Cahpter 5.

It had been four days since the "office incident" as Namette'd come to think of it. Shaken with the news, which Namette had finally decided to inform Jess about, as well with the death of Roberts, Jess had invited Namette to stay the weekend at her place. Not one to say no to a warmer more comfortable bed, along with free food and nice company, Namette had spent the entire weekend with her, going on walks, going to bars and pubs, enjoying the movies and reading outside in her garden. The occasional feeling of being watched did make itself present, however, as was usual with Jess, the moment Nametter thoughts turned toward the identity with the blue mask or face, Jess would jump in with an idea to keep Nametterselves busy, often with a joke, or a question that would force Namette both to rack Nametter brain for a possible explanation.

Namette did however catch her looking around as well, maybe looking out for Namette, maybe feeling the non existent eyes on her as well.

As Namette had stayed at her place so many times, Nametter clothes had a small drawer or their own, clothes Namette'd forgotten at her place, that she'd borrowed from Namette (even though that didn't usually tend to happen, her larger fuller frame unable to fit in any of Nametter own [body size]sized clothing.) or stuff Namette purposefully had dumped at her place. So when she asked if Namette wanted to extend Nametter stay for the week, and after conferring with her family, Namette gladly accepted. As her step mother worked close to the business estate Nametter own job was located at Namette even got a ride in the morning to bring Namette to work on time.

The week slowly dragged itself along without too much of a hassle. While no concrete information on Roberts had been passed along, more and more rumors spread that he had been murdered instead of had an accident, the police trying to keep the situation under control. However as more and more people spread this rumor, the more ridiculous it becomes. On the first day Roberts had had an accident, the Roberts throat was slashed, someone else claimed his eyes had been pierced, while someone else added that a suicide note had been found. Someone said his organs had been missing, while others said there had been too many organs. While these rumors always tended to happen behind Roberts friends and girlfriend, of course one of them soon caught up.

But Nametter life returned to normal. Not one to listen too carefully to rumors, Namette kept Nametter head focused on work, side stepping anyone who was found whispering. The dead mans name stubbornly refused to leave Nametter lips and Namette were fine with that. Nametter time with Jess also relaxed Namette, carefully replacing thoughts of paranoia and eyeless men with a new recipe Namette both were going to try out, or how to get that clay to look exactly the way Namette both wanted to.

So it is startling, when Namette do come out of the building at 7:30 that night, to see the man that had almost been wiped from Nametter memories standing, as if he belonged there, at the exit that lead through the forest. Namette used to take that road often during lunch when it wasn't so cold, quite enjoying the benches facing the forest, lining the little path. He stood there, on that path, looking at Namette. He was still across the parking lot, however this had been the closest he'd ever been to Namette, discarding that first fateful meeting.

Namette could see now that indeed the mask, for it was a mask, was blue, two black circles, or holes?, for eyes with what seemed black tears painted on it. It looked creepy to say the least, like those movies Namette quite enjoyed watching, a man running after his blonde prey with a knife yearning for blood.

Ah, snap out of it Namette, Namette chip into Nametter thoughts, this isn't a movie. So gathering the most of the courage Namette can muster, Namette take a step towards the figure. Namette see it tense, only now noticing that whatever he had been playing with, metalic and glinting in the night, was stuck rapidly back into his pocket.

"Hey!" Namette yell across the park, devoid of cars apart from one who probably belongs to someone working overtime. His head tilts to the right, as if curious. Mind set, Namette quickly take more steps towards the figure. "Who are Namette?" Nametter voice resounds in the silence.

Namette stop, not even 3 parking spots away from his location. Namette take a gamble and glare "Why are Namette following me?" Namette can't tell for sure if he is, if he's not, but Namette don't necessarily care if Namette sound like a crazy person. Namette're not the one with a blue mask on Nametter face. If Namette were crazy Namette were sure this guy surely was more so.

"Namette smell good." is the only thing the guy replies, as he takes a slow step towards Namette. Namette take not even a second for Nametter eyes to open comically wide before dashing across the parking lot, headed for the entrance. Namette can hear something giving chase, which obviously has to be the guy. Mask guy had been holding a knife... or something... maybe a scalpel?, before Namette had approached him. Who cares, the guy not only was crazy but Namette now had to be sure he was dangerous. He's gaining on Namette, Nametter clad feed trying to pick up Nametter pace, Nametter legs burning slightly, and as Namette near the door to the building Namette pat rapidly at Nametter pockets, desperately searching for the chip card to let Namette in, only to see, with growing relief, that the door is flung open as the straggler leaves the building.

"Don't close the door! Get in!" Namette scream, the guy confused but holding the door open for Namette. Namette can't hear mask guy following Namette anymore but Namette sure as hell aren't taking any chances. As Namette push the guy in and close the door, automatic lock falling into place, Namette stare outside trying to make out anything in the darkness.

"Namette?!" the guy says and Namette turn to come face to face with Markus, a tall Spanish guy whom Namette knew had been friends with Roberts.

"Markus." Namette sighed in relief, only now noticing the pounding of Nametter heart, the short breath, the cold sweat running down Nametter back. Namette let Nametter bag fall down on the ground and sit down next to it, trying to regain Nametter breath, Nametter adrenaline rush slowly fading leaving Namette winded and Nametter muscles burning. After being such a sloth this week Nametter muscles had gotten used to relaxing on a chair.

"What- I don'- what happened?" he questions, eyes quickly analyzing the night outside the tall glass door, but coming up empty handed.

"I... Namette'll call me crazy." Namette whisper, rubbing Nametter eyes slightly. Namette Nametterself almost called Nametterself crazy, but knew that Namette weren't.

"I... no, Namette, I wouldn't. After what happened to Roberts I-" he stops short, eyes locked on Nametters as if hoping Namette hadn't heard the last part.

Of course Namette had heard. And if Namette had to know, Namette would know now.


	6. Chapter 6

THIS STORY HAS BEEN BASTARDIZED BY ! FOR THE CORRECT, BETTER, VERSION VISIT ANY OTHER DECENT FANFICTION SITE SUCH AS: Archive of Our own, or DeviantART.

Chapter 6.

"What happened to Roberts? What-What do Namette mean?" Namette ask as Namette push Nametterself up. Nametter legs are shaking , but Namette're stable enough to stand.

"Look, it's nothing, ok?" he mumbles, about to press the button next to the door to disengage the lock, but Namette slam Nametter hand against the door, keeping it firmly shut.

"It's not nothing. I know that look, something's up. " Namette don't know that look, Namette don't even know the guy too well. Namette have only been his housemate for about two months before Namette have moved out to something more appropriate to Nametter salary.

His sigh breaks the tense silence that has been surrounding Namette, and then he nods. "Fine. Just - I don't want this to get out, with all the other rumors around." he says, to which Namette nod. Namette'd like to grab his shoulder for reassurance, a pat, but Namette really don't know him well enough for such familiarity.

"It was not an accident." he begins , voice cracking a bit before he coughs. Namette nod for him to go on, and so he does. "I don't know much, but as R-Robert's f-friend, the police ... they - They requested me to identify the body, since his family, as Namette might know, is still in Spain, and Tessa, his girlfriend, was in hysterics." At this point Namette do put a hand on his shoulder, but he says nothing about it.

"When they pulled him out, I was shocked. I swear, seeing someone dead is a bit like Namette see it in the movies. He looked like a doll or something. But then - His chest, his stomach, seemed so hollowed out. It was him, but ... His organs, well, most of them, were gone. The police asked me if he had anything to do with organ donors, or maybe knew of someone of his bloody type going through a rough patch. I ..." He swallowed, face visibly pale, as Namette withdraw Nametter hand with a nod and a slight "Keep going, it's ok." slipping past Nametter lips.

"The police - They , I don't know why, told me his organs had been removed which is why he looked so different. I asked them if he died in pain and they - I think he suffered ... quite a lot, Namette." His eyes are shining brightly in the artificial light behind the door, a strong contrast to the darkness that is luring just behind the glass.

"They then asked if he was, uhm - If he had been ... on some kind of tranquilizer, any pain relief meds, anesthetics, sleep medication. Of course he hadn't, he's the healthiest guy here if Namette asked me. He was -" His voice comes to a stop, a slight tremble on his lip.

"So -" Namette are interrupted by Nametter phone vibrating. Taking a peek on its display, Namette see it's Jess calling. Namette swipe Nametter phone, making sure the message "Call Namette back!" pops up before returning Nametter full attention to the distressed man in front of Namette.

"He used to walk home, didn't he?" Namette ask. Namette don't really want to pry, but Namette are curious enough to not be able to remain silent. His nod is small, but understandable.

"Yeah, he'd always take the path down the forest. He lived not even 30 minutes from here." He stops and stares at Namette with his eyes holding suspiciousness, before shaking his head as if to shake off an unwanted thought.

"Anyways, what were Namette running from?" he asks, his hand reaching for the button to open the door again, and once again, Namette push his hand down, afterwards scanning the grounds with Nametter eyes once more. Mask guy is probably gone at this point, Namette tell Nametterself, but Nametter paranoia is back in full.

"I saw this guy next to forest entrance, on the path. He's, uh ... kinda weird, if Namette ask me, wears a blue mask with black eyesockets and something black dripping from it. He was holding, uhm, something metallic like a knife or so, I couldn't really tell. Freaky as hell. He gave chase and I ran away. I mean, apart from chasing me, he only seemed crazy but, Namette know, with what has been happening here, I didn't necessarily want to try anything out." Namette end the sentence with a shrug, trying to make it as nonthreatening as possible, knowing it is impossible.

"Something black, Namette say?" His question is a bit weird but Namette nod nonetheless, and as soon as Namette are reassured that there's no one outside, Namette give up the inspection of the ground, turning to face Markus again.

"Yeah, like tears or something. I think it was painted on, but I didn't really pay attention, Namette know, running for my life and all." Nametter attempt at sarcasm goes right over his head. Namette think he may have withheld information but Namette're not sure and Namette don't want to pry. Nametter phone vibrates again and Namette look at Markus apologetically as Namette finally pick up.

"Where the hell are Namette, Namette?! It's way past 8 already!" Jess's voice is worried and Namette stop to think about how much this girl tries to take care of Namette.

"I, uh - I got stuck at work?" Namette cautiously answer . Gosh, Namette really suck at lying to her.

"Yeah, right. Seriously though, where are Namette? We're worried sick. My step mother just told me that someone at her company died last night, Namette know, someone from the same business park Namette're in, and we're coming to pick Namette up -" Some static seems to break off her next words, but Namette shake Nametter head.

"No, no, Jess, it's fine. I can go with the bus back to Nametter place. It's not that far."

Namette both get into a little fight, however Namette soon cave in to her . Markus is staring at Namette the whole time, and Namette shrug again.

As Namette hang up, he nods.

"Nametter friend is coming to pick Namette up, right ?" he asks, and Namette nod. "Good. I don't think we should be walking outside alone at night anymore. Goodnight, Namette." he says gravely. Namette reply with a simple 'Goodnight' of Nametter own and watch him enter his car, then pull away.

And as Nametter eyes roam over the parking lot and the forest once more, Namette wonder how exactly Namette have got Nametterself into a scary movie.


	7. Chapter 7

THIS STORY HAS BEEN BASTARDIZED BY ! FOR THE CORRECT, BETTER, VERSION VISIT ANY OTHER DECENT FANFICTION SITE SUCH AS: Archive of Our own, or DeviantART.

Chapter 7.

Of course you didn't fail to tell Jess about the incident. As a result, your unofficial stay at her house has prolonged itself to two weeks now, and on every single day of these two weeks, she picks you up personally, with her stepmother always sitting in the car with a gentle smile on her lips.

Her protective side has turned into a full-blown hyperactive status, and you let her, knowing that when she gets into one of these moods, she won't easily snap out of it. In any case, it is rather comforting, and you barely have a boring day in those two weeks.

This doesn't mean that you don't pay attention to your surroundings anymore , you still try to see if the guy is still around, but so far you have seen nothing. You, as well as Jess since she wants to help you , carefully examine the newspapers for any reports about someone being murdered. Sure enough, it seems that the death count has risen in the last three weeks, but you don't want to think about what exactly that means . After the incident near the forest, you have called the police, of course on Jess's insistence, who has promptly told you that you have nothing to worry about. However, security has been doubled at the business park, and thus you certainly are feeling a bit safer.

It is Friday when Jess knocks on the door to the guest room you have been staying at, her eyes downcast and her expression a little bit worried. You had already forgiven her for having gotten you silver earings, gently having reminded her that you were allergic to the material.

"Is... is everything OK Jess? I'm not angry about the gift, and see, it's all better" you show her your ear lobes but she shakes her head.

"I-it's not that you. Just... my uncle is in the hospital and they need us to take care of the house and stuff, so... You know... I can't really be here." she looked more worried now, with a shake of her head. "And I really don't want to leave you here with that, creep, and the murders."

"Is he ok at least, is it anything serious?" you ask, trying to discern the situation at hand.

"Oh yeah. It's just an appendectomy I think, but he'll be fine, but has to stay at the hospital for a few days."

You smile comfortingly at her, jokingly poking her shoulder once. Your smile seems to calm her down slightly, and you shake your head in amusement.

"Look, Jess, don't worry. I haven't seen that guy in ages, I'm sure it was nothing. And there's heightened security anyways. And I promise ... I promise, ok, Jess? I promise to stay away from the path that leads close to the woods. So you really have nothing to worry about."

She sighs , and you know you have already convinced her . With a rather reluctant nod, she grabs your hand and pulls you to her room where her bag is waiting to be packed, so you spend the next hour helping her pick out what is necessary for her short trip.

As soon as you set foot back in the house you are sharing with Ange and Rachel and a few other girls, you notice something odd. The window in your room which is normally closed and locked is now opened, and the curtains are pulled back to let the sunlight fall into the room. You guess that Ange has probably opened it, considering that your room tends to fog up at night because of the humidity, however she usually asks you if she can go into your room and open the window. Putting it down to her being in a rush - you have been gone for two weeks after all - you proceed into your room.

you gag. Something in the room smells putrid, like blood, or rot, or rust. Almost instantly, you rush to the window and open it fully, trying to get the smell to go. Looking around, you can't tell why the room smells as it does, so you decide to investigate. Your eyes automatically come to rest upon your bed, and you gag again. Near the bed, the smell is quite strong and you quickly understand why. A small pool of blood is on your pillow, and something black is smeared alongside it, and next to it , as if carefully places, is lying some kind of ... organ, soaking the fabric.

It doesn't seem old, though you can't even tell what kind of organ it is, apart from the fact that it's small and has obviously been gnawed on and bitten at.

"Fucking cats." you mumble, your stomach turning at the sight of the organ. You wonder where your cats have gotten the organ from, but you think that maybe one of your neighbors has discarded it in the trash from a pig roast or something. You don't want to think about it too much, so you just go with your own explanation.

Grabbing some paper towels from the kitchen, you quickly dispose of the organ and then throw the pillows and the rest of the bedclothes into the washing machine . You have no idea if this will come off, but you can't afford to buy new bed linens , so for now you have to try your best. Snatching a pillow form the couch in the living room and remaking your bed with new sheets, you fall on top of the now clean bed. A scented candle is burning on your desk , and the window is wide open to try and dispel the nauseating scent.

You relax. The curtains in front of the window are half closed, still allowing light from the street lamp to lighten the room , and to throw shadows across the bed and the floor. You close your eyes for a few seconds, enjoying the calmness of the night, but then you see behind closed eyelids something blocking out the light that has been falling over your face. You shrug and , thinking it's Jacques, open your eyes to shoo him away, before you realize that the silhouette standing out against the curtains isn't a cat but indeed very human. Very lanky and very tall. With a gasp, you hastily reach towards the window to shut it but you are too late, as the figure quickly yanks it back open.

You scramble backwards and fall off the bed, but you jump to your feet again and sprint towards the side of your closet which has already had a broken shelf when you have moved in. You have never decided to throw away the loose plank that has fallen off one of the drawers, and now you are glad you didn't , as you pick it up. Your phone is lying on the bedside table, right next to the guy who is staring at you from behind the mask.

"W-who a-are you?" your voice is trembling with fear, but you are inwardly happy to at least see that the knife - or scalpel? - is nowhere in sight. Your housemates seem to be gone, probably at Rachel's party to which you haven't been invited, not that you actually care .

But fact is, you are alone with this guy.


	8. Chapter 8

THIS STORY HAS BEEN BASTARDIZED BY FANFICTION dot NET! FOR THE CORRECT, BETTER, VERSION VISIT ANY OTHER DECENT FANFICTION SITE SUCH AS: Archive of Our own, or DeviantART.

Chapter 8.

"Jack." His voice, Namette notice now since Namette aren't outside and the wind is still, is low and raspy, as if he has rarely used it. It irritates Nametter ears a bit, but , to be very honest, Namette don't care for it that much.

"I'd like to say 'nice to meet Namette', but, Namette know, Namette just broke into my house and I'd appreciate it if Namette left." Namette definitely sound braver than Namette are feeling . Namette take a step back as the guy takes a step closer, his head tilted to the right in curiosity.

"Namette didn't like my gift?" The question catches Namette off guard. Namette are not sure which gift he is referring to.

As if he knows what Namette are thinking, he nods his head in the direction of the bed, to the pillow, to be more precise. Nametter stomach does a flip as soon as Namette remember the organ ... The organ ...

Nametter breath catches in Nametter throat. "That was Namette?" Namette ask. Namette want to back off him, but it's as if Namette are rooted to the spot. Namette simply can't move.

His nod confirms Nametter suspicions. "She used to like them, did Namette know? The spleens ?"

Nametter brow furrows in confusion, and Namette narrow Nametter eyes at the guys. What does he mean? She used to like them? Spleens? If Namette didn't already know that this guy is absolutely bonkers, Namette definitely are sure now. However, something - maybe the fact that he probably has a scalpel or something else with a blade hidden in his pocket and that he has given Namette an organ as a gift - tells Namette that telling this guy that Namette are sure he belongs in a mental hospital of some kind isn't the best idea.

"Oh, uh, t-thanks for that but ... Namette didn't have to, Namette know." Namette try to keep Nametter voice steady , but Namette are wondering if he has noticed the crack in Nametter voice at the beginning of Nametter sentence. Nametter hands are still tightly holding onto the plank. Hopefully, Namette don't have to use it.

"I wanted to, Felic- Oh , I'm sorry, I mean, Namette. Nametter voices are so alike - were so alike - are so alike."

Yup, he is completely and utterly bonkers.

"H-how do Namette know my name?" Namette ask, Nametter voice barely a whisper, even though Namette kind of know the answer already anyways. He doesn't even deign to answer Nametter question, instead tilting his head to the other side slowly .

Namette cautiously inch towards the door, hoping that he doesn't realize Nametter intentions until Namette are at said door, however - of course - his eyes seem to be trained on Namette the whole time and Namette have barely moved an inch before he cocks his head to the right once again.

"Do I scare Namette, Namette?"

How the hell do Namette answer that? 'Why yes, Jack, Namette scare the bejeesus out of me.' Namette almost snort at Nametter own thoughts, but then think twice about Nametter situation. So far he hasn't attacked Namette, hasn't been aggressive, well, at least as long as Namette pretend that day near the woods was an odd encounter. He is just standing there after all, seemingly staring at Namette.

"N-no, Namette don't." Nametter own answer surprises even Namette, but his face, hidden behind the mask, tilts down slightly, as if in a pleased nod.

"Good. Only prey should be afraid."

Namette gulp at his words. Namette are slightly confused, to say the least, and Nametter hands are shaking, but Namette will Nametterself to lower the plank, at least low enough not to pose an open threat but at the same time high enough to strike if he should attack Namette.

"And I'm not prey?" Again Nametter voice trembles, but this time Namette're proud to say it doesn't tremble enough to be noticed by him.

"Of course not. Nametter voice is ... entrancing. Namette remind me of someone I ... lost." he speaks, and Namette can see from the way his mask is tilted towards Namette that he's staring at Namette quite intensely.

The mask's inky holes where his eyes should be scare Namette a bit, since he appears to not have any eyes at all this way.

Throwing caution to the wind, Namette drop the plank to the ground and clear Nametter throat awkwardly .

"Look, Jack, I'm sorry Namette lost her, I'm truly am, but ... I'm not her." Namette almost kick Nametterself for most likely getting Nametter own butt into trouble, and expecting the worst, Namette flinch as he takes the few steps separating the both of Namette. Namette don't even think of lifting the plank, but at this point Namette really don't want to make Nametterself seem like a threat. Namette ... look like a threat? Namette would laugh at Nametterself if the situation weren't this weird.

His gloved fingers grabs Nametter chin, pulling it so that Namette are looking at him, Nametter [E/C] eyes widened at his proximity. A strange metallic scent is clinging to his clothes and makes Namette feel uncomfortable. Namette can look closer at his mask now, and so Namette notice that the holes he has for his eyes are indeed made to look like dark pits of despair. Some tar-like substance is dripping from the sockets, a lone drop of it falling on Nametter floor, and for once, Namette thank the heavens that Namette don't have a carpet in Nametter room. This substance looks like something that would be very difficult to come out.

He seems to inspect Namette, head tilting left then right before finally leaning in. He pulls his mask up, of course making sure Namette can't see underneath, before pressing his nose to Nametter neck. He's cold, frigid, an icicle.

Yelping, Namette jump and try to get away from him, but his grip is tight, and now he is , pressing his nose closer to the part of Nametter neck where Namette know that one artery runs right beneath Nametter skin ... or something like that, Namette're not too familiar with human anatomy. He breathes in hard, then runs his tongue over Nametter neck once before finally letting Namette go, pulling his mask back down swiftly.

Namette stumble backwards and hit the door, the knob digging into Nametter lower back.

"Yes, of course Namette aren't, Namette, Namette don't look much like her at all. Namette don't look like me at all ... But Namette smell so much sweeter ..." The way his face travels down Nametter body holds nothing of the sensuality Namette have read about so often in books. If anything, he looks like Namette are a meal, and Namette definitely prefer to not be looked at, like Namette are a steak when the person looking at Namette is obviously starving.

Just as Namette open Nametter mouth to tell the guy to either not eat Namette or to get the hell out - preferably both -, Namette hear a car pull up outside. Namette quickly turn around, facing the entrance of the house, and throw the door of Nametter room open. But when Namette turn back, he's gone.


	9. Chapter 9

THIS STORY HAS BEEN BASTARDIZED BY FANFICTION dot NET! FOR THE CORRECT, BETTER, VERSION VISIT ANY OTHER DECENT FANFICTION SITE SUCH AS: Archive of Our own, or DeviantART.

Once again , Namette decide not to call the cops. Namette are unsure of what to say anyways, thinking that 'Well, yeah, this masked guy came in, gave me a spleen as a gift apparently, and then left.' isn't a proper thing to say for a police report . However, Namette simply are not able to relax in the following week. Namette don't encounter Jack again during this time, which only fuels Nametter paranoia to the point it is showing itself in Nametter behaviour , even at work. While Cath is constantly trying to get Namette to take a few days off , the thought of being alone at home with a strange and most likely crazy guy being after Namette doesn't appeal to Namette in the slightest.

To Nametter surprise, however, the murders have also stopped. While before there have been 3 murders in only 7 days, it now has been over a week and nothing has happened so far. No murders, no organs , no masks, no Jack. Namette tell Nametterself that the incidents are unrelated , that Jack isn't a murderer, that there hasn't been a murderer standing in Nametter room a couple of days ago. Namette can almost convince Nametterself that it has been nothing but a dream , if it weren't for the now burned pillows and bed covers, and their ashes are still waiting for Namette in the black trash bin outside Nametter home.

But Nametter paranoia doesn't wear off anymore . Since the incident with Jack standing in Nametter room, Namette haven't entered Nametter home on Nametter own , waiting at work and pulling overtime until Namette are sure either Ange or Rachel (or any of the other girls) are already home. And the cash on Nametter bank account is dwindling as Namette take the safer route, taking either a taxi or the bus back home more often than before.

Markus, just like Cath, is quick to catch onto Nametter growing paranoia as well, approaching Namette one late night and asking Namette about what is making Namette so jumpy. Happy to have someone else to confide in, apart from Jess who doesn't really work at the estate and isn't there 24/7, Namette tell him about having seen Jack around Nametter place and knowing he is following Namette. Namette don't tell him about Jack having been in Nametter room though, or even having contacted Namette directly, because that, for some reason, sounds like Namette'd be crazy, and to be honest , Namette don't want to be pulled further into this crazy situation anyways. Markus, ever the sweet guy, listens to Namette and nods as Namette are explaining Nametter fear. Eventually, he gives Namette a hug.

"Namette know, maybe at this point Namette're just being paranoid. Namette should relax, I'm sure nothing will go wrong. Even the streets are safe to walk again. And the forests? I've been going home by foot myself the last few days, it's as safe as can be now."

His words strike Namette as odd, since Namette have definitely seen him get in his car often the last few days, but Namette shrug it off. Considering his friend has died and he is in direct contact with the police, he is sure to know more about the situation at hand than Namette being the paranoid person Namette are.

When Jess returns a week and a half later, since the appendectomy of her uncle has infected and he has to stay a bit longer at the hospital than initially expected, she asks Namette if Namette want to stay at her place, but Namette refuse . This is becoming ridiculous, Namette tell Nametterself. Now that Jack knows that Namette aren't the girl he apparently has thought Namette would be, he surely will stay away from Namette.

As if to prove Nametter point, as well as to prove Markus's words true, Namette walk home that night by foot, even going so far as to look the devil in the eye and sticking exceptionally close to the forest, and Namette congratulate Nametterself when Namette get home and not a single thing has happened. Not a rustle, not a squirrel, not a whisper. See, Namette? Namette just have been over-reacting. Markus was right.

Of course, Jess knows something had happened anyway, as Namette are still shooting quick looks over Nametter shoulder every once in a while, not yet able to overcome Nametter paranoia fully. Being her best friend, Namette recount the entire story and stay at her house for four more days after that, just to convince her Namette are indeed OK and that nothing and no one is chasing Namette.

Jack, Namette are telling Nametterself, is gone. Jack, Namette are telling Nametterself, also isn't a murderer and probably is a delusional kid who has some problems in life. Namette definitely refuse to connect the dots, Namette refuse to acknowledge that his appearance has been at the same time as the murders , Namette refuse to notice the increase of murders when Namette have seen him in the woods and the dwindling of these now that he has gone missing. Even though Namette know this, Namette still refuse to admit Namette have gotten Nametterself into some kind of clichéd movie or story of a sort. With this in mind, with Markus's words and knowing that only in movies and stories the guy would show up again, Namette decide to start walking back home instead of taking the bus or a taxi. Nametter legs definitely appreciate the effort, Nametter mind can relax and Namette feel Nametterself return to normality almost immediately .

Of course, as all stories go, this doesn't last for too long.

Namette see, one day, Namette open the door to Nametter room, throw Nametter jacket and Nametter bag onto the couch and, without even turning on the light because Namette are completely exhausted from an extremely long day at work and just want to sleep, let Nametterself fall backwards on the bed.

The warm bed.

The warm bed that spoke.

"What? No hello? No greeting?"

Before Namette can scream, or in fact even react, his gloved hand covers Nametter mouth, successfully muffling the scream that does , eventually, rip itself from Nametter throat.

"Shh, it's just me, Namette. Relax."

With a slight squeeze of his hand, he withdraws , letting Namette sit up and quickly turn on the light.

"J-Jack?" Namette whisper as the light almost blinds Namette. Namette are met with the deep blue mask - as always - his hoodie throwing a dark shadow over it, but his brown hair, Namette notice , is poking here and there from around the opening. Whilst Nametter heart is finally slowing down from the shock, Namette take Nametter time thoroughly taking his looks in.

He stands tall, quite tall in comparison, and very scrawny. Lanky? Skinny? Namette can't really make out his height and physique , not with the hoodie as well as the mask. However, his whole posture, his build and his hair don't let him look like he is any older than 19. Namette can't tell for sure, of course, not only are Namette bad with ages but his mask covering his face doesn't help at all.

"Namette." His voice kicks Namette out of Nametter stupor and Namette jump to Nametter feet , moving so that Namette are as far away as possible from him.

He stares , Namette stare back .

"I'm not gonna hurt Namette." His voice sounds impatient, with a touch of hurt. Nametter eyes narrow to slits as Namette keep analyzing him.

"What are Namette doing here? I thought Namette had left?" Namette ask, examining his hoodie which seems to be wet in some patches, slimy almost. His pockets squelch when he is moving, a sound Namette don't really care for.

"I had ... business to attend to. Why? Did Namette miss me, Namette?" He sounds amused, which in turn kind of annoys Namette.

"Oh, so much. I could barely breathe without Nametter presence." His chuckle does catch Namette off guard. It sounds uncoordinated, raspy as if he hasn't laughed at all in a long time , but at the same time, it sounds warm and gentle . Namette also notice that his voice has smoothed a little ever since Namette two have last spoken to each other, as if he hasn't stopped talking since then. Namette feel a blush creep up Nametter neck as the laugh almost smothers Namette in its softness before Namette shake Nametter head. But then, a drop falls from his hoodie and onto Nametter clean wooden floor. A red drop. A red slimy disgusting drop. With all the panic due to his sudden appearance in Nametter room, Namette haven't even noticed the smell that accompanied him.

Blood.

"I-is t-that b-blood?" Nametter stutter makes him tilt his head again, before he looks at the drop on the floor Nametter eyes are stuck on. "Yes. And?"

"A-are Namette hurt?"

"No."

Namette gulp.

"Whose blood is that when it's not Nametters?"

His annoyed sigh cuts through the silence like a razor, and Namette flinch.

"Namette're not that stupid and Namette must have connected the dots at this point, right, Namette?"

And finally, finally, Namette allow Nametter brain to comprehend that, yes, indeed, there is a murderer standing in Nametter room, and yes, he has killed people, and yes, he is highly dangerous. Before Namette can think twice about it, Namette bolt for Nametter phone in Nametter bag.

Jack, even though quick in reflexes, understands Nametter motives a single second too late, and as soon as Nametter fingers wrap around the little machine, Namette rush out the door. Nametter fingers are pressing the keys quickly, however too quickly as Namette repeatedly press the wrong ones, and when Namette finally manage to input the correct number for the emergency hotline, a hand darts out from behind Namette, removing the phone deftly from Nametter grasp and smashing it on the floor. A prick on Nametter neck is the last thing Namette take notice of before Nametter vision is surrounded by black, a single phrase caught by Nametter ears.

"It's alright now, I've got Namette. And I won't let Namette go again."

A small, gentle chuckle followed.

"Felicity."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10.

When you regain consciousness, there's a bird chirping merrily somewhere above you. You can't tell what kind of bird, since you are no expert in bird species, but you do know and notice that a bird chirping above you is strange for your bedroom. Which is easy to explain, since you notice with a start that you aren't in your bedroom to begin with.

As your eyes adjust to the blinding sunlight, the first thing you notice is that your head, which is lying on something dampish but soft, mixed with the earthy and musty smell of mold, feels like someone stuffed cotton into it. Though your eyesight is slightly blinded by sun, you can see just fine. The sun isn't yet at the highest point in the sky, so you guess it's late in the morning.

Despite the cotton in your head which makes you feel like you have slept for years on end, you manage to lift your head ever so slightly, although the stiff muscles in your neck are protesting. As you take in your surroundings - definitely not your bedroom, that is for sure -, you see a blanket covering your form and a note that has been placed on a garden table nearby, the white paint of the table flaking off and taken over by moss and rust.

You take a few more minutes to inspect where exactly you are. Craning your neck this way and that, you can tell that you are in the middle of some kind of woods. Behind you is a small cabin-like structure, the wooden walls are green with moss and decay, but astoundingly standing upright and sturdy. In front of you is a small garden, complete with a set of garden furniture, a small swing is hanging from one of the taller and more robust trees, and there also is a flower bed to the right.

You slowly push your body upright and swing your legs to the side, the blanket wrapped around your ankles. After you have disentangled your feet you once again look at the note and then pick it up to read it.

"I'll be back soon.

Jack"

You scrunch up the paper in your fist and groan in pain as the joints in your back pop.

So, you have been taken by a crazy guy, who most likely kills people, to god knows where. How long have I been here ?, you ask yourself, shielding your eyes from the sun with your right hand. To recollect the things that have happened: You have returned home at around 8 pm last night - you at least guess that it had been last night that Jack had kidnapped you -, and if you have to guess, you'd say it is around 10 or 11 am right now, which means that you have been asleep for over 10 hours. You panic a little, quickly checking if you have any injuries you might have received. Apart from the soreness in your body, which obviously comes from lying in the cold air and on a uncomfortable, metal garden set lounge, you notice nothing out of the ordinary on yourself. No case to panic, just yet, you seem to be fine.

As you stand up, your eyes are automatically drawn to a bright patch of flowers towards the back of the garden, almost straight in the center of the little area. You get closer and examine it, then sigh at the cute sight. White and pink carnations make a lovely tile on the floor, surrounded by the blue delicate flowers of forget-me-nots. Ivy clings to something at the head of the flower bed but you regard it as unimportant.

You need to find a way out of here. The roaring in the background, that you now take notice of with your surroundings deemed as safe, is loud and persistent. It's a strange rushing sound, humming and gushing, but maybe you're close to a highway. If that really is the case, then this will be your way out of here.

Turning to face the cabin fully, you intend to look for your cell phone or a phone altogether. Not that you think you'll find it, but it's still worth a shot. The cabin looks like it hasn't been used in years, however the structure is sound and robust. You take the few steps quickly and pull at the door, which, to your surprise, gives in quite easily. You open the wooden door and almost gag at the heavy smell of mold, rot and rust. It leaves a metallic yet fungoid taste in the back of your mouth.

You flick on the switch of one of the lamps that you can see on the wall, however the click of the switch isn't accompanied by light. Well, of course not, since it seems that no one has been in this cabin in years. It didn't hurt to try. More to dispel the nasty scent lingering in the air, but also to bring light into the closed off space, you fling the windows open, letting the air from the oncoming spring outside stream in. You take a deep breath of the almost sweet air and proceed to open all of the windows in the cabin you can find.

As you scrutinize the layout of the house, you also notice another thing: There is no water and no electricity available in the cabin, and definitely no food in any of the cupboards or the empty and turned off fridges. You frown and sigh deeply, your stomach rumbling slightly.

The cabin itself consists of three stories, a main floor, the upper floor and a small basement, which seems more damp than the rest of the house and where you really don't spend too much time looking around. The door you have initially opened leads to a small living room and an open kitchen. The kitchen, to the right, although old, doesn't seem like it is broken or unusable, and if you are able to restore the electricity or find gas, you can maybe use it to cook something - however, you aren't sure how the stove works and you clearly don't plan on staying here long enough to find out. The living room, on the left from the door, seems to be the only part of the house which has been used mostly , however even this seems to be at least a year ago. The chimney has ashes and a stack of wood next to it which doesn't look that dry, to be honest. Old plates are lying on the coffee table, caked with moss and fungi and there are also a few candles halfway melted and some matches near them. An old style TV is standing underneath one of the windows, a few gaming consoles surrounding it. They seem to be surprisingly new, oddly looking clean in the midst of the decaying place. Leading away from the living room, at the back wall, are some old stairs that lead upstairs, where, after some searching around, you find two bedrooms, a library/study of some sort and a bathroom. The two bathrooms, both on the upper floor and the downstairs floor, were green with mold and moss and you escape the scent encased inside the room after you have opened the window.

You, of course, come back downstairs empty-handed.

What strikes you as odd though, is the numerous books spread around the house. There are shelves filled with books, books strewn around the house, and notebooks filled with doodles and drawings and diary entries. Some of these books and papers, the ones which haven't begun to rot and are still readable despite the humidity, often have "F.N" inscribed at the bottom. When you stumble upon some old school books, you stop . The name "Nadia" is written clearly on a sticker, for naming purposes most likely, on the front of the math book you are holding in your hand. You don't like this a single bit.

Shaking off the weird, creepy feeling of being in an unknown, abandoned place, you quickly leave the cabin to inspect the outdoors.

Ok, [Name], it's time to be brave, I need to get out of here and if I'll follow that strange roaring sound, maybe, just maybe, we can find a highway.

As you walk, your ears on alert trying to find the source of the roaring, you notice that the woods you are in seem to not be as dense as the ones around the area of your house. This only reinforces your decision to go and somehow find a way home. You have no idea why Jack has taken you here of all places, why he hasn't simply killed you, but you really aren't too keen on finding out. The moment you have made it back home, you are going to call the cops. No chickening out this time.

However, as you get closer and closer to the roaring sound, not even ten minutes after you have begun walking you feel your stomach drop. The trees get more dispersed, the humidity rises and when the wall of trees finally opens up, you gasp.

A river.

A large, roaring river.

A goddamned river.

Fuck.


	11. Chapter 11

THIS STORY HAS BEEN BASTARDIZED BY FANFICTION dot NET! FOR THE CORRECT, BETTER, VERSION VISIT ANY OTHER DECENT FANFICTION SITE SUCH AS: Archive of Our own, or DeviantART.

Chapter 11.

Nametter knees are shaking, Nametter chest is filled with panic. How are Namette going to get out of here? No, no time to panic!, Namette scold Nametterself and pick up Nametter pace, walking around the shoreline. If Namette follow the river downstream, Namette have to find either someone or at least a beach or a lake. It is definitely better than waiting for Jack to return. The river however doesn't seem to end. Namette don't give up though, following the shoreline for what seems like hours.

When Namette eventually stop to rest, legs burning with the exertion, and the sun shining in Nametter face, Namette groan. There seems to be a dock of some kind, the water here is less aggressive and calmer, apparently a kind of bay on this place. It has to be late afternoon now, judging by how high the sun is in the sky. How long have Namette been walking? Namette groan again, sitting down at the edge of the water, and let Nametter now bare feet dip into the cool liquid. Nametter legs twitch as Namette have a rest. Namette must have been up for maybe 5 or 6 hours now, it can't have been any less than that.

Namette sigh, then take in Nametter surroundings more carefully. Here, the river isn't roaring as loudly as it has been near the cabin, Namette notice due to the calmer, secluded water. This place ... could it be? Could Namette be on an island in the middle of a river? It would make sense and explain why the water here is calm, considering it seems to flow in a specific direction and if this is one of the ends of the island, then the water here would, theoretically, be calmer.

Namette drop Nametter head onto Nametter knees, resting for a little while, just enjoying the breeze on Nametter back and the water on Nametter toes. How ... how were Namette going to get out of here, out of this, from this island?

If this is, indeed, an island, which Namette can almost vouch for, then Jack has to come here with a boat. Jack is gone, however, which means the boat is definitely gone too. But Namette are sure that if there is really a boat, when Jack returns, this place is where he will dock it. Anywhere else doesn't make sense, since, as Namette have noticed on Nametter expedition, the water at the other areas is not only quite far down because of a sort of cliff, but also seems to be quite wild and strong. It would definitely damage any boats docked there. But here the water is a lot calmer. Namette lift Nametter head.

Namette don't want to wait for Jack, Namette want to go home. Namette want to eat some Ramen noodles, grab a Jacket and read fanfiction on the internet. Namette want to call Jess and tell her she is an idiot. Namette want to hear Nametter fathers voice. Work with Cath. Namette want to go back to Nametter normal life.

Namette frown, scrutinizing the river in front of Namette. If Namette see correctly, the water seems calm not only on the bay but further out as well. If anywhere to cross, this is the place.

Namette nod, Nametter mind made up. Namette're not going to wait for a psychopath to return and murder Namette. Namette want to live or die trying. Namette fold Nametter clothes as Namette take them off, one by one. Nametter skin shivers in Goosebumps as Namette stand in front of the roaring water, worry filling Namette, but Nametter will to escape grows stronger and Namette take Nametter first steps into the cool water. It's freezing, but Namette don't care. Taking a bit to get used to the coldness, Namette finally jump in and start swimming.

The first few minutes are ok, the water is cold and Namette are shivering, but Namette keep moving, the current not too strong, and Namette almost weep in joy as Namette see the other side come closer.

That is, until a strong current pulls Nametter left leg down and Namette go down beneath the water, a quick, sharp breath the only warning.

And under Namette go.

It's a sudden whirlwind, it pulls on Nametter arms, on Nametter legs, Nametter torso spasming as Namette are pulled down by another current. Namette feel rocks under Nametter hands, Namette're upside down, then Namette protect Nametter head as the water slams Namette down onto a rock. Namette grab onto it, lungs burning with the need for air. Namette kick out, hitting something hard and slimy, Nametter toes push against it. Namette break through the surface, take a deep breath. Namette barely get a second to feel relief, then Namette're down again. Namette don't know which way is up, which way is down. Namette don't want to drown, Namette don't want to die. Namette fling Nametter arms again, out, looking for anything to hold onto. Namette almost scream as Nametter hand grabs something long and sturdy, but Nametter grip is gone. Just as Namette think Namette'll die, Nametter hand comes into contact with the thing again and Namette pull Nametterself out of the current, Nametter head breaks the water and Nametter lungs inflate with much needed air.

Namette quickly pull Nametterself on shore, running on nothing but adrenaline, not caring where Namette are, when Namette are, simply knowing that Namette still are... alive.

Namette lay there for what seems like an eternity. Nametter lungs ache, Nametter body hurts, there are scratches and bruises all over Nametter body, and Nametter ankle is hurting but Namette don't think it is too serious. Namette don't care. Namette breathe, and Namette breathe again. And as the adrenaline, making Namette shake and breathe deeply, slowly dissipates, Namette cry. Namette cry because this is all fucked up. Namette cry because Namette want Nametter life back. Namette cry because Namette're panicking. Namette cry because Namette're in shock.

When Namette finally sit up, the sun has started to cast a golden glow, going further down in the sky. Namette finally take in where exactly Namette are and groan. Namette're not too far from the freaking dock. Namette must have pushed Nametterself right back into the water around it, Nametter savior having been a lone root of one of the trees surrounding the area. Namette are lucky, Namette know this, Namette know that Nametter chances of survival had been too low to rely upon. Namette almost died. Namette should have died. This realization quickly makes Namette stand. Nametter ankle throbs but Namette disregard the pain, grabbing a fallen branch to help Namette walk. It's starting to get colder, and although spring is close, winter still bites at Nametter feet. Nametter clothes, strewn around the bay by the wind, wait for Namette patiently. It doesn't take more than 5 minutes to get to them.

Nametter trek back to the cabin, which has to be in the middle of the island , Namette tell Nametterself, takes Namette longer than Namette thought. Namette're freezing,wet and in pain, making progress slowly, holding onto the branch for support. When Namette finally get there, about 20 minutes later, the sun is very low. Namette congratulate Nametterself on arriving at the cabin before sunset, and remember the matchbox on the table inside. Namette're glad that Namette have taken the time to examine the house before, quickly grabbing the blanket off the garden lounger, throwing some unreadable, decayed books and wood into the chimney and lighting it. It takes some tries though, since the cold wet wood does not want to catch fire.

Insistence, for once, helps Namette out. Namette stare at the small fire that slowly grows in size and warmth. Namette sneeze, before wrapping the blanket around Namette and snuggling in front of the warmth of the fire, Nametter wet clothing hanging on the wall to dry.

Namette didn't even notice when Namette fell asleep. Nametter body lulled by the flames and the heat, tired and exhausted from the day. Namette also don't really know what has woken Namette up. Namette're comfortable, something heavy and warm on Nametter body making the heat intensify and coil around Namette like a lover. Namette take a bit to return to the living world. Namette hear breathing, slow and steady.

As Namette lift Nametter head, Nametter muscles hurting and protesting at the movement, Namette come face to face with a blue mask ... and black ooze dripping to the floor. Namette almost scream, but Jack's hand over Nametter lips muffle the sound. Namette shiver, almost in panic again, as Jack pulls the blanket Namette have over Nametterself off. Namette lie there, trying to covers Nametterself, in nothing but Nametter underwear, trembling in the cold. Jack moves his other hand to keep Namette steady, apparently inspecting Nametter injuries. Bruises and cuts litter Nametter body, Namette ankle forming a blue, greenish hue. Namette try to move it and sigh in relief that it's fine, just bruised and sore.

Jack doesn't say a single word for several minutes, having noticed Namette moving Nametter ankle and obviously deciding that everything is indeed fine and that Namette'll survive, and then he tilts his head to the right.

"I didn't think Namette'd be so stupid." His voice cuts the awkward silence and Namette huff, annoyed. Namette choose not to answer. Namette're angry.

Taking Nametter silence as an answer though, he quickly moves the blankets back onto Namette, causing Namette to sigh in relief, the heat enveloping Namette again in its embrace. Namette hear the front door open and give the idea of running for it a couple minutes of thought, but disregard it. Though Nametter ankle is neither sprained nor broken, it still hurts and seems to be tender to any movement. Namette would not be able to outrun anyone in the state Namette're in and Namette don't want to make Jack angry.

Jack doesn't take long to return anyways. Not even 10 minutes later, he is back. Namette don't care for what he's doing though, as Namette finally let Nametter eyes fall shut again, the soft sounds of clinking and rustling, Jack moving around quietly, drifting Namette back to a deep, deep, sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

THIS STORY HAS BEEN BASTARDIZED BY FANFICTION dot NET! FOR THE CORRECT, BETTER, VERSION VISIT ANY OTHER DECENT FANFICTION SITE SUCH AS: Archive of Our own, or DeviantART.

Chapter 12.

You wake up to the feeling of something slipping around your ankles and locking into place. You're not sure of what's going on, since your head is again filled with that muffled cotton-like feeling. You quickly fall back asleep.

When you wake up the next time, you try to stretch ... and stop. Your ankles feel heavy, so heavy. You try to lift your leg, finding it to be possible but quite a lot heavier than normal. You lift the blanket and observe the anklets you are now wearing, made of some sturdy heavy material. They're thick and silver, little bells on both of them. At least they are not made of silver, or else your leg would be red and itchy at this point.

Crap. You sure as hell won't try and swim like this, not that you had any intention of trying anytime soon in the first place. You pull at the anklets, trying to check them for any weaknesses. Nothing. Running, with these anklets being as heavy as they are, sure would also be quite a challenge. At least they aren't attached to anything, making walking around possible but still encouraging you to not move too much.

You stand up and grab your clothes from the wall. They're now dry and warm and you slip them on, wishing you could take a shower to get the filthy feeling of sweat off of your body. You could, of course, make your way down to the river, but you dismiss that idea. Your ankle throbs, your body protests and you really don't want to return there.

Your eyes move around the room. The house is quiet, the fire having died out during the night, but the sun shining in through the window is enough to keep you warm. A note from Jack is sitting on the mantle piece:

"Food's in the fridge. Water and electricity is on.

Don't run.

I'll be back later.

\- Jack"

You frown, confused by how electricity is here, in the middle of nowhere. A pump for water would make sense ... maybe solar-cell powered?

Not wasting another thought on this subject, you go into the kitchen, happy to find bread amongst tons of other food in the fridge and in the cupboards. Seems like Jack had gone shopping yesterday. Hastily preparing a few sandwiches, you literally inhale the first one, satisfying your appetite and then taking some time to eat the second sandwich. You test the water, which comes out brown and stinky first but quickly turns into clear and fresh. You don't think there's warm water.

Sandwiches devoured, you head to the bathroom. The disgusting scent is gone the moment you flush the toilet, the window still cranked open. Not wanting to shower in a dirty bathroom, you find some cleaning utensils, mainly bleach, at least a year old, underneath the sink in the kitchen and make quick work of cleaning the bathroom, at least the more urgent areas you might need. The sink, toilet, shower and the floor almost sparkle, clean, in contrast to the nearly green walls of the room. You give it little thought as you wash away the grime of the previous day with the quite cold water. Your underwear, washed with only water, is drying in the sun during this.

Now showered and dressed, you examine the house again. With electricity restored you can tell the TV is now working. You turn it on, if only to hear the sound of normal human beings, and are astonished at the fact that not only does it work, but that it even has channels. That explains the satellite dish you had seen yesterday on the balcony, but which you had ignored in your search for a phone. With renewed hope, you search the whole house for a phone again, but come up empty-handed again. The gaming consoles and other electric appliances however all seem to work. This makes life here definitely less boring.

When you stumble upon the computer again, you think about what to do. Maybe, since you have a TV, maybe you have internet as well? you turn on the quite new device. It seems odd to have a (laptop / computer) sitting at a desk, clean and tidy, and it isn't until you have turned it on that you notice, in fact, this is your own (laptop / computer). Your background glares at you after your input of the password. Jack must have taken it with him, god knows why.

Your attempts to connect to any internet are, however, futile. No connection is found, the multiple searches always returning negative answers. You sigh, laying your head down, scared that you will die here and no one will hear of your story.

You spend the next three hours writing down everything that has happened so far. You're not really sure why you do it, but just feel that, if someone should ever find this place and find you dead, you want someone to know what has happened to you.

You don't notice that you are starving once again until your stomach gurgles. If your laptop is correct, it is way past lunch time, so you decide to cook some pasta, which you have noticed earlier in one of the cupboards.

You make quick work of cleaning the kitchen to a point where cooking in it would not get your food infected with disgusting residues. You again see the difference between the dirty grimy rest of the house and the areas you use for your necessities. Placing the pasta in a pot of water and cooking some broccoli you found in the big fridge, on the stove, you notice another smaller fridge under the row of counter tops separating the living room from the cooking area. Your tomato sauce is emitting pleasant aromas and you scrunch up your nose in thought. Some Parmesan would taste lovely with this, but you can't find cheese in the big fridge closest to the stairs. Maybe Jack has stored some in there?

Leaving the food to cook, you approach the smaller fridge, hoping to find cheese for your feast. What you find, instead, has you rushing toward the bathroom, happy you had taken the time to clean it as you come to a skidding halt in front of the toilet, throwing up.

Organs ... tons of organs ... in jars. You had seen lungs, hearts ... spleens and kidneys. You throw up again, coming up with stomach fluid and bile as the picture of the organs float through your mind. You vomit one more time before running back to the burning sauce and definitely overcooked pasta. Not that you care much, you aren't hungry anymore anyways. Finding and cleaning the Tupperware, you place the pasta and broccoli in the fridge. You have to get away from the smaller fridge. You need to get your mind off of Jack, off your situation. You need to rest and you need to heal.

Grabbing a book you had heard Jess once comment on, you take it outside, blanket wrapped around you, as you sit down in the sunshine, stomach queasy, tired and sore, the anklets making walking slow and difficult. A sigh escapes your lips, giving a quick thought about Jess. Is she missing you, has someone called the cops, are they looking for you? your throat constricts, but you fight down the feeling, refusing to cry. So far, you are OK, nothing majorly bad has happened and you are alive.

You just hope things won't change ...

You just hope your organs won't end up in the fridge with the others.

When Jack returns, you have managed to calm your stomach down enough to eat some of the mushy pasta. In fact, you have the warmed up bowl with new sauce (something very simple) sitting on your lap and are reading a book in the rapidly cooling air of the small island. He is carrying bags which seem to be quite heavy, and you hear tinkling sounds, like glass hitting against glass.

You stubbornly refuse to look at him and also ignore what you imagine has to be in some of those bags, and resume your eating and reading. Even though you are being rude, Jack nods to you, obviously satisfied with the food you are ingesting. He pulls out something from one of the bags and throws it to you.

It is instinct rather than you actually wanting to catch the thing, but in the end, your eyes open comically wide and you throw a confused glance at his retreating back. He had gotten you cookies.

He had gotten you your favorite cookies.

And as you hear him put away the groceries, you are, again, confused as to why he brought you here, wherever here is.

Of course, you don't like being imprisoned. Your mind returns to reading, though barely being able to due to the fading light. Suddenly, you can read a lot better, light spilling onto the page, revealing the words you had tried so hard to differentiate. When you look up, Jack nods to you again, leaving the lantern, an old rustic thing, next to you, illuminating you and your book.

You try not to, but a smile fleetingly passes your lips with a mumbled "Thank you".

What a weird guy.


	13. Chapter 13

THIS STORY HAS BEEN BASTARDIZED BY FANFICTION dot NET! FOR THE CORRECT, BETTER, VERSION VISIT ANY OTHER DECENT FANFICTION SITE SUCH AS: Archive of Our own, or DeviantART.

Chapter 13.

"Come on, come on, come on!" you mumble, forcing your legs to move faster. The nightly air bites at your skin, cold and frosty in the winter. You miss the sunshine of spring or summer, anything really, but not this cold of night.

The flashlight, having been found underneath the bed, in the room where Jack had deposited some of your clothes, definitely not enough though, pierces through the night. You hear rustling and wood creaking, but you've made sure that Jack is asleep in his room before you left. It is the fourth day at the cabin, and you have spent the last day relaxing and resting your ankle that still throbs slightly from time to time. Your feet drag over the ground, because the freaking anklets make running faster almost impossible, and your muscles are aching from the effort.

Finally, the light pierces through the thick, black foliage, illuminating the bay where you almost drowned.

"Ha, I'm awesome, I knew it!" you whisper, quickly, or, well, as quickly as possible, dashing towards the boat tied to a tree, partially hidden beneath the lush vegetation.

Another crack and rustling behind you makes you paranoid, flicking your eyes over your shoulder constantly, trying to catch anything in the complete darkness of the forest edge.

You pull yourself onto the boat, only to find, dismayed, that it is a motorized one. Worse, it's a motorized one requiring a key. And even much worse, after a few minutes of searching, you know Jack hasn't been stupid enough to leave the key on the boat.

As you set, trying to even pretend how to hotwire a bloody boat, a chuckle makes you squeal and fall back as your ankles basically refuse to move.

"Now now, don't go try something that will break the boat. We do need it for ... food." Jack comes out of the shadows, gracefully and deadly, stalking towards you like you're prey. You gulp, shrinking back into the chair of the boat, scared you have messed up beyond belief.

"You're so very, very, stubborn, (Name)." He sounds amused, instead of angry, which irks you. You're quite glad he doesn't sound angry, though.

"Yeah, well, maybe if you finally let me go back home!" you retort, crossing your arms in front of your chest, before uncrossing again as you notice that ... well, he's standing, you're sitting, and you both surely aren't on even footing. Ignoring the outstretched hand, you stand and, like an idiot, stumble as the anklets impede your movement. His hand quickly grabs you by the waist, holding you upright.

"You should be more careful, (Name)." he whispers, chuckling as he feels your shiver.

"And you should remove these bloody shackles and let me go home." you growl, shaking his hands off your skin, the warmth clinging to you like glue. You shiver again and you can hear his smirk through the mask.

"Maybe, one day, if you stop trying to run away. The waters here aren't very forgiving and it would be such a shame to lose you to them." your eyes widen comically again and he laughs, his head thrown back in mirth. The skin of his throat seems oddly colored, but you can't really see it in the moonlight, and his laugh, although aimed at your demise, still makes your blood boil slightly. It's warm and rich and strong.

"Relax, (Name), if I wanted you dead, we wouldn't be having this conversation. But, please, do us both a favor and stop trying to run away, yes? Even if it does amuse me quite a bit." He grabs your hand, pulling you towards the edge of the boat, before grasping your waist again and lifting you over the edge, your feet landing in the water next to his.

"Now, if you're done with your adventure, I think we should return home. It's getting late and -" He looks you up and down as you are standing in front of him clad in shorts and a tank top, the only type of clothing you own as Jack hasn't bothered to get anything else so far. "- I think you must be feeling quite cold."

As if to emphasize his words, a shivers passes your body and he hummed in response.

The trip back home is quiet and cold. You drag your feet again, feeling the exhaustion taking over you, the anklets not helping in the least. Jack keeps giving you sideway looks, but keeps the silence intact. You are grateful for the small reprise.

Finally home, you let yourself fall in front of the fire again, the flames warming you up to where you are feeling drowsy. You look back at the kitchen area, where you hear Jack do something which you can't quite discern. Shrugging, you grab the book you had been reading yesterday, picking up where you have left off. Though your focus is quickly broken by the smell of something ... burning? You jump up, rushing into the kitchen only to see Jack standing at the stove, something burning in a pot.

"Wh-what is this? Jack?"

"I-I was trying to cook some pasta..."

You stare at the burnt mess, before looking back at Jack who is rather confused as to why this cooking process didn't go as planned.

"Did you add water?" you inquire, biting your lip to keep back a chuckle, grabbing the pan and throwing it under the faucet.

"Yeah, a spoonful." He sounds so serious. The hold on your lip breaks along with your resolve not to laugh, doubling over in mirth.

"Jack, you need to add a lot more water than that!" you snicker, adding some soap to the mess to try and soften the charcoal like residue.

His simple "Ah." makes you dissolve into another fit of laughter.

The water is running in the bathroom. You see that Jacks clothing lay crumpled up on the couch, his mask, however, is no where in sight. It's been two days since the "kitchen disaster" as you have come to dub it and you spent the previous day scrubbing the kitchen and the bathroom clean, both downstairs as well as upstairs. While before those rooms had only been marginally clean enough to use, they are now spotless, apart from some areas where you either couldn't reach or that are damaged by weather and time.

You slowly approach the hoodie lying on the couch. You have yet to see Jack's face, or any his skin for that matter, so you feel confused as to why he would just leave his clothing lying around when he has been so careful to always be dressed when you are in his presence, but you don't care too much about that now. You have seen him toying with something metallic in the pockets of his hoodie and that means either one of two things: He has the scalpel in there, which you have come to see quite often in the last few days, or he has left the key behind. Since he doesn't leave any sharp things around you, such as knives or glass, you don't think he'd forget the scalpel in his clothes. Your smile widens when you reach into the pocket and pull out a key.

A small silver key.

A small silver key with a small tag saying "18 Vengeance" ... the same model as the boat.

You muffle your shout of victory with your hand, fist pumping the air in joy.

Silently, you leave the cabin, making sure to be as quiet as possible, while still trying to be swift. Of course, the bells on the anklets are annoying you, but after yesterday, you have learnt to muffle the sound by stuffing little strips of cloth into the opening and taping it down.

You move quickly yet with a lot of difficulty through the woods again, the keys held in a death grasp, excited to get off of this bloody island. You spare a thought to leaving Jack here, but shrug it off as unnecessary. You are sure he knows of other ways to get help and get off of there.

This time, it takes you longer to find the boat. Jack has hidden it a bit better, long thick branches covering the silver hull, but a stray beam of moonlight hits it just so and you do let out a joyful whoop this time. You quickly climb on board, the anklets hindering you more than you'd have thought, and move to the front of the boat.

The front of the boat where a note is stuck to the window ...

You recognize Jack's handwriting almost immediately, and you shiver again, even though Jack had finally gotten you a jacket.

"You really are quite stubborn.

Come back home now.

\- Jack"

The growl comes unannounced out of your throat, frustrated and angry, you jam the key into the ignition.

You try to jam it, that is. The key doesn't go in. The key doesn't fit. It isn't the right key.

Defeated, you let yourself fall back down on the floor of the boat, a heavy sigh escaping your lips as you rake your fingers through your hair. Ok, so the bastard has planned this. That's fine, you can deal with this and the smug butthole.

Your trip back to the cabin is filled with your imagination, how you'd wring Jack's neck, how he'd plead for mercy, how you'd stab little pins into his arms, how you'd torture him -

You stop your thoughts quickly as you set foot into the cabin, and Jack, smug and arrogant, is sitting on the couch, watching TV, as if nothing has happened. You can, however, tell he's smirking by the way the mask tilts slightly to the side. You'd become quite good at discerning this.

"You need to get me shampoo, shower cream and body lotion then. And we're almost out of milk." you say, plopping down next to him as he pats the couch.

"Glad to see you're coming to your senses, you." He says, and yep, that bastard is smirking.

"Shut up and give me the remote control."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14.

Coughing. Coughing hard, racking breaths make your chest hurt and your head pound. Your brain is full of static, your lungs don't work properly and you cough ... and cough ... and cough ... You can hear Jack somewhere, talking to someone. How they came here, you have no idea.

It's been a few days since you last tried to escape and you and Jack have started to come to a speaking arrangement. While Jack would ask you questions about various things, mainly about how to cook specific foods, you'd answer to the best of your ability while trying to remain as distant as possible.

When doing the asking questions stuff, though, Jack would often retreat somewhere and not appear for a few hours. You don't mind though, you take those quiet times to read another book or write your adventures on the computer.

How bad you wish you could have a quiet time right now. The static in your brain is pressing in, drowning out the entire world. You can't even hear Jack anymore, who has showed up at the door with knowing eyes and a smile, as he holds you while the coughing takes a crescendo, growing and making you feel like your breath is being shaken out of your body.

Just as quick as it started, it stops.

Jack's hands are rubbing circles onto your back, holding your hair out of your face as you dry heave from the quantity of coughing you have done. Nothing comes out though, since it is early morning and you didn't have breakfast yet. Jack's cool hand on your skin feels like heaven.

"[Name]?"

You nod to indicate you are listening and press your overheated skin into his hand, trying to cool yourself down.

"I need to go. I'll be gone for a while, but you'll have enough food for the time I'll be gone. Just nod if you understand what I'm saying."

Your nod makes him take his hand away but you grab it again and press it to your cheek, the cool texture of the glove helping you relax again.

"Y-yeah, I'll be alright. What was that though?"

He pulls his hand out of your grasp, coughing once before readjusting his hoodie.

"My boss." is all he says before standing and leaving, throwing a quick look and wave back at you.

Shrugging to yourself, you cuddle into the pillows and go back to sleep, dreaming of tall men and white faces.

When Jack had said he wasn't returning for a while, you assumed he had meant a few hours or maybe a day or two.

The first two days, you decided to clean the entire house. You literally went on a rampage with bleach, dusters, window cleaners, mops and rags. Apart from Jack's fridge and Jack's room (which you don't dare to enter and is locked anyways), the house is now spotless.

During this time, you stumbled upon all the books, notes and diaries you had noticed on your first day here. You have piled them in the study and decided to go through them later.

On the third day, Jack not having returned yet, you got a bit worried about his whereabouts. What if he won't come back? What if he died and you are stuck here now? You quickly discarded these thoughts, however, trying to keep yourself from panicking, and wrote more in the diary you are now keeping on your computer. At this point, it has become therapeutic and you don't want to stop writing anyways. Although this kind of pastime takes your mind off Jack, it doesn't work out quite right. Remembering the large pile of papers, books and diaries in the study you went to inspect it.

On the fourth day, you finally managed to organize the documents, papers and books into various piles. There is the "Burn it" pile, consisting mainly of books and other things so damaged by the weather and the decay the house has been in that they aren't readable anymore. There is the pile of normal books, books you are going to gladly return to the shelves once you have organized those alphabetically. There is the interesting pile, books and other things you want to give a read, including, but not restricted to, a book on human anatomy and on human illnesses. You aren't sure if the organs in the fridge are human, but to be honest with yourself, you strongly believe it.

And then there is the "Very interesting" pile. This consists mainly of papers, books and diaries all signed. You have found quite a few more of those laying around, some signed with "Nadia", some with "F.N" and the ones which caught your attention the most with "Felicity".

You vaguely remember Jack calling you something very similar on that day he had taken you away to this place. Even before, he had said something about someone he had lost, hadn't he?

Although you try your best to put these pesky thoughts out of your mind, you aren't able to. Curiosity as to why he hasn't killed you yet, why he is keeping you here, what this place is in the first place keeps you nervous and antsy.

So, hoping to find answers to some questions, you grab one of the diaries Nadia has left behind, and settle into the lounger in the garden. You have to clean out here eventually as well, maybe weed out the garden a little, it looks chaotic. You have chosen the earliest diary you could find, the pages slightly damp and some of them just outright moldy, but still readable enough.

"Dear Diary,

Father was quite angry today. I think something went wrong at the factory and I don't think he liked seeing me cry when I broke the plate. It's unfair though, I didn't do it on purpose, why was he so angry?

He said that maybe, had sister not been allergic, she would have been more of a help, that this wouldn't happen! It's not fair."

"Dear Diary,

Today is a good day. Father has finally let me help at the factory. He said that I can work with him because now we're sure the silver isn't bad for me. It's been a few days since he's let me help out, but we do need the money. It's almost my birthday too, so dad said we could go to the river then. I'm excited, I haven't been to the river in a while. It's very peaceful there."

"Dear Diary,

Father keeps looking at me weird, like something's wrong. He got a letter from sister, or, from sister's parents, and I think he's upset of what was in it. I also think he knows I stole the neighbor's cake, but he hasn't said anything."

You stare at the pages, frowning. Have these two lived here before, Nadia and her father? And if so, where are they now? Looking at the date, you notice that this has been dated not even 7 years ago. The cabin itself looks like it had been deserted for a few years, so maybe you can start from the end and work yourself forwards ... Your curiosity, you tell yourself, has nothing to do with jumping to the end of the story. After all, even if every story has a beginning , sometimes it is OK to start with the end.

You lay the diary to the side, sighing, then retrieve the most recent one from the neat stack next to the computer.

A quick glance tells you that the newest one had been not even 3 years ago, and is, by far, the book that is in best shape out of the many diaries. You still have another one, dated in the same year as the one you are currently holding, but decide to leave that one for later. A quick peek at the last page has you laughing already, a picture scribbled on the bottom of the page, depicting two kids, one of them with his, because it was definitely a male, hair hanging down while the girl stood on his back trying to get to a box of cookies. Although more like a sketch, this girl has quite a bit of talent in her drawings, you have to give her that.

A bad smell makes itself present as you move across the kitchen to head to the spot you now deem yours. The foul odor, as if something is rotting, turns your stomach to a point where you think you won't be able to muster an appetite for dinner. Dejectedly lying the diary on the couch for future reading, you make your way to the kitchen. The thought of food really makes you want to throw up. Carefully opening the fridge, you stick your nose into it and sniff. Nothing. Apart from a wrinkly dried up tomato, it smells fine. You proceed to smell inside the cupboards. Although the scent is stronger here than in the fridge, it is only due to something in the vicinity being rotten. You dread the only other place you could think off with rotten ... well, not food, is it?

As you carefully approach the smaller fridge, you gag, the smell definitely growing stronger the closer you get. You grab your courage and throw the door open. The smell, which had been encased with the fridges door is powerful enough to make you stumble back. You almost laugh at the image created by your mind, of healthy flowers turning black and dead at the presence of the smell. A few of the jars containing the organs you suspect as human have a greenish tinge to it, the liquid inside of it thicker than usual. Even though the jars are screwed shut, you still smell the putrid gases ... or maybe you are imagining it, as one of the lids is apparently unscrewed.

Making up your mind, you quickly grab a bag that Jack has left behind and start rounding up the jars that are rotten, screwing the lid of the open one shut and dumping them inside the bag. You move the bag outside and wait a few minutes before returning to the kitchen. The smell has severely diminished, though you can still smell it like a bad after taste. Deeming that you have gotten all the rotten organs out of there, the next question poses itself to you.

Now what?

You're not really sure that these are human, though Markus' words are running through your brain, how Roberts had been hollowed out, how his organs had been missing ... Huh, with what has happened lately, you have completely forgot Jack had killed one of your colleagues. Your indifference scares you a little.

But still, what to do? Should you dump the organs in the river? It would make sure that they would be gone and you wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. But, what if these are human after all? Should you bury them and pretend to hold a speech? Scoffing, you grab the bag and make your way to the river, the anklets softly chiming as the cloth has fallen off and the bells are free to ring.

When you arrive at the cliffs you close your nose with a washing pin you found lying in the garden and unscrew the jars.

Even with the pin the smell almost makes you throw up. You dump the contents over the side of the small cliff and into the river, the thick slimy substance in the jar trickling out before the organ itself falls over the edge with a "thwop" sound, as it unglues itself from the bottom of the jar.

You pretend to be able to see the organs floating rapidly down the stream, but it's more the thought that somehow you should pay respects or at least remember the things that now were surely gone.

"Farewell my friends", you mutter, "see you on the other side."


	15. Chapter 15

THIS STORY HAS BEEN BASTARDIZED BY FANFICTION dot NET! FOR THE CORRECT, BETTER, VERSION VISIT ANY OTHER DECENT FANFICTION SITE SUCH AS: Archive of Our own, or DeviantART.

Chapter 15.

"Dear diary,

today the boy showed up again. He seems to be very quiet but I can't really tell if he's just shy or not. He's like me, kind of, and he just sits on the swing and stares at me. I think. In any case, if he comes by tomorrow again, I will speak to him. Being all alone here is so boring, so I'm happy he's here, even if he's quiet."

"Dear Diary,

he did come over today, I was so happy to see him! I told him my name and said hello. I think he was surprised I talked to him? He's very nice and very polite, though. He even helped me up when I tripped over one of the chains here. He's very gentle.

I haven't seen father this week yet. I hope he comes back soon. I miss him."

"Dear Diary,

the boy has been coming now every day. His favorite place is on the swing, but he shouldn't sit there because the branch is old. He brought me a gift today, some kind of a hand-held device with a game. It was fun, but I prefer talking to him. I don't like the silence."

"Dear Diary,

the strange boy looked at me funny today, but I don't know why. I can tell we're a bit different sometimes, but he's still very sweet. Today we played hide and seek, though the chains of course gave me away. He hid on the roof, the cheater! I also told him about my sister that father keeps away from me. I don't think he understood what I meant, but that's ok."

"Dear Diary,

the boy told me about some of his friends and how they bully him for being silent. Is that why he came to our little island? I don't even know how he gets here because I don't think he has a boat. Anyways, I'm just glad he's here."

"Dear Diary,

the boy and I spent the whole day reading , writing and drawing. Well, I did, at least, and he kind of just pestered me to see what I drew. I drew sister, though I'm not really sure how she actually looks. Is she like me? I know she can't wear silver, so I drew a golden bracelet, like the silver one I have. I also drew my friend. I'll probably give the picture to him later, it's funny to see him curious."

"Dear diary,

I haven't seen father in 3 weeks now. I'm pretty hungry. Today when I was crying, the boy cried with me because he doesn't like to see me sad. We have the same kind of crying. Is he really like me?"

"Dear Diary,

The boy had to leave a few minutes ago. I don't think he left me. But my stomach hurts so much, I just want food and father has been gone for so long. I can't move that much, my body hurts and it's so cold, but when I pull the covers over me it's too warm. I wish the weather would decide what it wants.

.

It hurts.

.

Where's Daddy?"

"Dear Diary,

The boy brought me food yesterday. He wanted me to eat the ... thing ... he brought raw, but I couldn't. He's not very good at cooking, but he cooked the meat anyways and I swear it was the best thing I have ever eaten in my life. He smiled and grinned and laughed when I said that. Whatever it was, he's happy that I liked it."

"Dear Diary,

My friend keeps coming now everyday with food. It tastes weird, but it's good. I've taught him how to cook it properly with salt and such. He's brought me tomatoes too and we made stew. It was so good."

"Dear Diary,

The TV is working again, I don't know how my friend did it. We have a small satellite now, and we watch silly movies together. He makes fun of the horror ones, saying it looks too fake. To be honest, I'm glad it does, I don't really like the nightmares.

I do miss the factory though, how the silver shines in the light. I still have the bracelet father gave me, the one with the small bell, the one that sister couldn't wear. Father said it hurt her, but I don't understand how something so beautiful can hurt anyone. I miss working with the silver."

You stop reading, taking a large gulp of the orange juice. You have spent almost your entire day reading Felicity's diaries. She's a small girl, from what you have read, though you have yet to see a picture of the girl herself. She once had fun dying her hair to annoy her friend - the boy she has mentioned in her diary entries -, but didn't have dye in the cabin so she has crushed leaves and plastered her hair with the paste turning it green.

She had lost her glasses once and had her friend in a fritz because she couldn't see too well without them. She never calls her friend by name in the entries, which strikes you as odd but you don't really mind.

From what you could tell they are very close though. You're unsure as to why she has chains around all the time, or why her father has left her, if something has happened. You know, from earlier entries, that she had joined him on one of her birthdays, working at an old silver factory, because her sister wasn't able to do so. A few entries scared you though, such as the second to last one on one of the book:~

"Dear diary,

My skin is growing weird. It feels weird when I touch it and it's growing darker. When I went to father about it, crying, he looked at me with wide eyes and sent me outside to pray alone. I think he's still praying."

It seems weird, but she had written this in summer. Had she never had a tan before?

One of the diaries explains the cabin you are currently in, though. It had been an heirloom from her mother who had passed away after the girl's birth and left it for her. Her father had brought her here to relax, for vacations, on her birthday. He had left to go to work the next week, but always brought her food ... Well, almost always.

You sigh, standing up. You are getting used to the anklets at least.

Jack has been gone for a week and a few odd days now. Although you are worried for your own sake, because if he dies, you can't get away from this place, you notice that you also don't want him to get hurt. Not that you care about him ... of course not.

His warm laughter flickers into your mind, as you were you running around with a burning towel you had forgotten near the stove. Or the way he had helped you up that one time when you had fallen flat on your face after tripping on the Xbox console's wires and then fixed your nose up.

At least he is a gracious kidnapper.

Sighing again, you lay the diary down on one of the chairs nearby and look outside at the garden. You sigh. You huff. You groan.

"Fine." you growl, grabbing a pair of gloves and a towel and a few other utensils you think might be of interest, and start to leave the house to go finally tend to the garden. Then you see it. On the floor, a picture is lying face-down; it probably had fallen out of the diary you, quite carelessly, dropped on the chair.

You pick it up and gasp.


	16. Chapter 16

THIS STORY HAS BEEN BASTARDIZED BY FANFICTION dot NET! FOR THE CORRECT, BETTER, VERSION VISIT ANY OTHER DECENT FANFICTION SITE SUCH AS: Archive of Our own, or DeviantART.

Chapter 16

The picture had been taken by one of those instant cameras. Namette had seen one of those upstairs in the study, broken and fractured. The picture is old and slightly faded, but Namette can see it clearly... clearly enough... A girl, a teenager, is sitting on the swing outside, holding a cat in her arms, crying with a huge smile on her face. Her hair is high on her head in a pony tail, her white glasses framing grey eyes, tears streaming down her face in happiness. Black tears. Black tears streaming down her gray face.

Something about her is like looking into an extremely warped mirror, but Namette can't really put Nametter finger on it.

Namette hold the picture, inspecting it. She seems happy and Namette notice that the swing she sits on is the one outside the house and there, around her ankle, chains hold her tied to it. Namette can't see where the chains are attached to, but Namette can only imagine it's to the cabin. She's small and thin and she looks very undernourished, but she looks happy enough.

On her arm a small silver chain hangs with a bell. It seems, again, oddly familiar, like one of the jewelry pieces Namette have at home, though Namette hadn't worn it in a while, as the gold coating was flaking off and the silver underneath caused blisters to appear.

Turning the picture around Namette read the words "It's alright now, I've got Namette. And I won't let Namette go again. Felicity.". It's dated about two years ago. Namette look at the diary, which had Felicity had started writing two and a half years ago, starting with her being with her father in the cabin on this island. The picture must have been taken by her friend or her father, but considering the date inscribed on it, and comparing it with the other information provided through her diaries, it had to have been her friend. Her father had been MIA for at least 2 months and still not shown. This would make the girl in the picture about... 16, 17 years old?

And another question poised itself. The tint of her skin bothers Namette considerably. Namette've never heard of any disease such as this, or birth defect, but Namette know Namette'd be doing research into the subject if the chance ever presented itself.

Did this mean the boy, her friend, also had grey skin or something? She did mention them being similar didn't she? And what about her sister?

This was all a bit confusing if Namette had to be asked, maybe Namette just needed a break and try and think about something else.

Setting the picture on the countertop Namette grab the utensils again to take care of the garden. It's sunny outside, though the ground is a bit squishy and soft from the rain from the previous day. This makes pulling out weeds a lot easier. Namette first clean the garden set, making the white paint underneath the grime and the mold shine through. It would need a layer of paint, which Namette had seen in the very damp basement on Nametter first day here. Namette hadn't ventured down there again, but Namette think Namette could do it later.

The grass was tall and unkempt, filled with weeds. Namette set out to weed it at least halfway decently before grabbing the man held lawn mower and giving the lawn a decent mowing. Music is blaring from the TV inside and Namette happily hum to the tunes.

Then the flowerbeds feet Nametter wrath. Namette dig into the moist ground, pulling out weeds and stones and only let up once the flowers shine in their new and improved area. The roses have little buds forming, the bloodroots are coming out of the ground and the Hyacinths are opening their sweet and fragrant blue bells. Namette grin as a breeze cools Nametter sweaty brow, taking in the colorful scenery, and finally turn to the last area. The carnations are in bloom, weeds however mar the sweet sight. The blue forget-me-nots are starting to wilt due to being overshadowed by the pesky green vegetation surrounding it. The Ivy had grown bigger and fuller since the first time Namette saw it, almost killing the flowerbed in its wake. Namette weed the bed, giving the flowers room to bloom and prosper, then turn Nametter attention to the ivy. It's a difficult task, the roots and the little glue cups sticking to the surface of the stone.

The stone, Namette see now, has an engraving in it, carved and painted on somehow, black tears drawn onto its ragged surface.

The stone that reads "Felicity Nadia" in silvery faded letters, with the date of 2 years previous.

Namette retreat almost immediately, standing away from the flowerbed... the grave!, of the girl Namette had seen the pictures of, the girl whose words Namette had been reading, whose drawings Namette had laughed at. The girl who was, apparently, dead.

Of course Namette had had Nametter suspicions... Felicity! How could Namette have been so stupid! Jack had said he had lost someone he cared for, he took Namette here, where Felicity had been, this being Felicity's cabin after all, right?

But why?

_" Nametter voices are so alike... "_ Namette remember his words from when Namette had seen him in Nametter room, a spleen on Nametter bed.

Could it be, the boy, the friend, that it had been Jack? It had to be! They had to be! How else would he know about this place since apparently she had died here? And Nametter voice being similar to hers had maybe triggered a response in him, missing his friend. Namette thought that kidnapping someone just because they sound similar to a deceased friend is a bit overkill, but Namette knew Jack didn't function quite like other humans.

Wait. A spleen.

Namette double over and puke, the chicken soup Namette had made burning its way up Nametter throat, thick with stomach acid.

If Jack was the boy in her diaries, he had brought her food, and maybe he had assumed that they were the same because Nadia kept saying they were the same. Jack had brought her food, and what does Jack eat? The stench that the organs had left in the kitchen still made Nametter stomach turn. Namette remember something else he'd said, something that made Namette throw up again, stomach heaving with the effort.

_" She used to like them, do Namette know? The Spleens?"_

She had had no idea what she was eating, she'd been starving, her father MIA bringing her no food. She had devoured the meat Jack had brought, kept eating it because she was hungry, never asking what it was apart from in her diaries. She had been eating human organs without even knowing.

Namette briefly wonder how she died. But for today? Namette've had enough.


	17. Chapter 17

THIS STORY HAS BEEN BASTARDIZED BY FANFICTION dot NET! FOR THE CORRECT, BETTER, VERSION VISIT ANY OTHER DECENT FANFICTION SITE SUCH AS: Archive of Our own, or DeviantART.

Chapter 17.

"Who was she?"

Jack had returned during the night. He hadn't said anything to Namette as were lying in bed. He just made his way to his room, closed the door, and had gone to sleep. Namette laid there with Nametter eyes wide open, waiting for any movement after that, but none had come. Eventually Namette'd fallen asleep to the rushing of the river outside.

"I -"

"No. Jack, I've been here alone for over a week. I've been here for, what, over a month altogether? Namette owe me answers. And I want to know who she is." Namette press the picture into his hands which, Namette see now, are shaking slightly. He has made Namette breakfast, burnt toast with jam, but hasn't said a single word until just now. His defeated sigh lets Namette know that Namette've won, but the way his shoulders sag doesn't fill Namette with victory. Instead it fills Namette with a sort of sadness, empathy Namette think, and Namette squeeze his shoulder, taking him outside to look at the clean garden, the grave now blooming and shining beautifully in the sun, a myriad of color.

"She ... Her name was Felicity Nadia. She was my best and only actual friend. She was always happy, always smiling and helpful. She was beautiful." He pulls the picture up to his mask, eyeing it. Namette wonder how he looks underneath it, but decide now is not the time to pry.

"Her father, this terrible man, he brought and left her here. I had seen them come here with a boat, one that he left docked on the other side of the river, so when he left I thought I had an easy meal and a home for the next week. But when I got here, she ..." His shoulders tremble as if he is crying. A drop of the black ooze falls down his cheek and onto his glove and Namette absentmindedly wipe it away from the black material.

"She was beautiful. She was just like me, I had never met someone like me. But, she was chained down to the house and I couldn't get her free, not that she wanted me to. She was always smiling though, so trusting, and she trusted me with her life and I trusted her with mine. I stayed with her when I could, sometimes getting food for us. She would talk about everything really. About her sister she knew she had, whom she'd often heard stories about. She often also talked about the silver she had worked with, how beautiful it was. She was so like me, well, almost."

Confused, Namette tilt Nametter head. "What do Namette mean when Namette say that Namette're the same?" Namette finally mumble and almost scold Nametterself for asking such a redundant question, but he turns his head so that he's facing Namette.

"Namette promise Namette won't scream?" His question catches Namette off guard, but Namette still nod, Nametter heart racing as Namette watch his hands move towards his mask.

Namette're not quite sure what Namette're scared of, but Namette surely didn't expect to look upon a teenager, the moment the mask is removed. He's got very nice features, the same grey skin Namette have seen the girl have in the picture, but somehow different. Black tears are clinging to his cheeks, more trickling out from the corners of his eyes, dripping down his nose onto his now bare hands, also grey in color. Again, without thinking, Namette brush away the drop from his hand, and for once feel his actual skin. It's warm and slightly rough, apparently due to him doing the things Namette don't want to think about him doing.

However, it's his eyes that fascinate Namette the most. Or well, the lack of them. Namette think that, if Namette hadn't read Nadias diaries, if Namette hadn't been here for over a month, Namette'd be scared mindless by the abyss that those eyes are posing, holes with no ending, but Namette're not.

Another tear runs down his cheek, his face trained on Namette and Namette can tell he's waiting for a reaction. Namette see Nametterself, as if in third person, lifting a hand to his cheek, brushing a thumb underneath the holes he has for eyes, brushing away one of the tears pooling down. He turns his face into Nametter hand, nuzzling it slightly, seeking comfort, and Namette don't know how but Namette know he's staring at Namette.

His cheeks darken in color, he looks quite pleasant when he isn't being creepy, and his face, though Nametteng, maybe 19 or 20, is quite attractive. Namette blush hard at Nametter own thoughts and quickly remove Nametter hand from his cheek, coughing.

"I, uh - I think, uh - I think I'm tired." Namette stumble over Nametter words, then remember it's late in the morning and almost slap Nametterself for Nametter stupid excuse. He chuckles, the same sound that before had irked Namette so much, filling Namette with a warm feeling in Nametter stomach Namette really, really, really want to ignore. Namette think Namette might be going crazy.

"Yes, quite, it's getting quite late, isn't it?" he mocks Namette, then laughs outright as Namette blush a dark shade of pink with a barely audible "Shuddup". A breeze wafts over the flowers, the air around Namette turning nice and sweet. Namette don't move, he doesn't move, both of Nametter gazes locked on the grave.

"She was something special, wasn't she?" Namette ask, turning towards the grave fully. Namette feel Jack tense next to Namette, then relax. A quick glance at him shows he has not put the mask back on and a small smile, a loving smile, plays around his lips. Namette can tell by the glimpses Namette get of his teeth, as he talks, that they are quite sharp and pointed, not human, but this doesn't scare Namette at all, his murderer vibe dampened by the smile and love he shows towards a girl that has been dead for almost two years.

"She was. Namette should have met her, I think Namette would have gotten along with her perfectly. Once, after one of the hunting trips I took, I got hurt. Just a small scratch. But she went crazy, making me rest for about two days before she let me even get up. When I got her the cat she was ecstatic, I don't think I've ever seen someone so happy ... and ... she was like me, but so different at the same time. She taught me I could have fun and be happy as well." He turns to Namette with a smile, grabbing Nametter hand and squeezing it.

"I'm sorry I took Namette here, but Nametter voice is so similar to hers that I thought ... I thought maybe I could bring her back, somehow. And also - Never mind, it was silly." It's almost a whisper, but Namette still catch it.

"And also what, Jack?" Namette insist, just this once, curiosity getting the best of Namette.

"I ... Look, I'm not crazy, ok? I thought Namette would be like her, like me. The first time I saw Namette, I could see resemblances, but ... Namette're not like us. Not even close. Namette're just ... human? Maybe Felicity was special, I don't know." Namette frown at his words, confused beyond belief.

"Jack, I don't think I understand."

He lifts his head, holes boring into Nametter eyes.

"Yes, I didn't think Namette would. Who are Nametter parents, Namette?"

His question strikes Namette as odd, but Namette frown and give him the name of Nametter parents, curious as to where this is going.

"And Namette're sure they're Nametter parents, yes?" He says, taking a step closer, grabbing Nametter hand tightly.

"O-of course, I mean, of course they are. They raised me after all." Namette have never doubted this information before, and it isn't like Namette have talked to them in almost a year, but they are Nametter parents, and they've let Namette live Nametter life, calling every once in a while to see if Namette are OK. Namette wonder if they're worried right now.

"Do Namette have Nametter baby pictures at home? Do Namette have pictures of Nametter first three years of life? Do Namette remember, Namette?" And no, Namette don't. Namette don't remember and Namette don't have them in Nametter house, having burnt apparently in an old house Namette had lived in. But Namette can't remember, Namette don't know.

"N-no ..." Namette stutter, and he smiles faintly, gently. He places the picture of Felicity in Nametter hand and Namette are once again struck with the familiarity. No ... What, how...? Namette stare at the picture as Jack retreats to the house only to come back with papers and pictures moments later, things Namette haven't seen so far, things he probably has kept in his room.

"I'm sorry to spring this on Namette, I was waiting for a better time, when maybe we were friends but ... Namette needed to know and Namette were being nosey after all." He sighs, pushing papers into Nametter hands. It's paper clippings, pictures, documents, things Namette don't want to look at. Why he has them, Namette don't want to know, but Namette still look at them.

Nametter birth certificate is amongst them first, the one Namette know is Nametters but Namette have never took the time to look at it. Nametter name is shining back at Namette. Then Namette take the pictures of a cute baby, holding an adorable blanket. A small red mark is on her wrist ... a small red mark that resembles a small scar Namette still have to this day.

Jack, noticing Namette looking at the picture, pulls the sleeve of Nametter shirt up to show Namette the scar.

"Allergic to silver ... Nametter father didn't know, so they gave Namette a small little chain with a bell on." He pointed to the small chain on Felicity's picture.

"It hurt Namette ... so they coated it in gold ... Namette know what I'm talking about, right?"

Namette are almost about to deny it when Namette stop. Namette nod, remembering the little bracelet Namette have never really worn, due to the gold coating flaking off, and sigh.

Moving on, Namette take the next paper and Nametter eyes widen at the content. It's a letter, Nametter father's familiar handwriting scribbled on it, dated years back. Namette have no idea how Jack even got these, why he has these. Namette don't want to try and rationalize.

"After Felicity died I ... I remembered her saying she had a sister, and I thought ... Well, I thought maybe Namette were like her, that I could have her back ... somehow." Namette don't want to believe this, but small hints have been given to Namette over the years, things Namette have dismissed. The gifts Namette received every year on Nametter birthday, the occasional letters from a man in the family whom Namette have never met, the fact that, indeed, Namette don't actually have pictures of Nametterself with Nametter family as a baby.

Shaking Nametter head, Namette hand him the papers back, a slight tremor in Nametter limbs.

"I ... I'm not going to say it's OK, Namette did kidnap me and I'm still stuck here -" Namette shake Nametter ankle and the bell attached jingles "- but I read her diaries, I know more or less how she was ... I guess ... She seemed very sweet and, I guess what I'm trying to say is ... I understand? But I'll need to talk to my parents to believe this, because ... to be honest ... this is too much ..." Namette falter in Nametter words, but smile anyways. "It does mean I would like to go back home." Namette add, almost as an afterthought.

He smirks at Nametter words, pulling Nametter chin up almost the same way he has done that day in Nametter room. He inspects Nametter face, lowering his own in a way that implies he's checking Namette out. Nametter blush deepens and his smirk does as well.

"Sorry, but I quite like having Namette here. At least I know Namette're safe and really, am I that bad company?"

Nametter annoyed huff makes him chuckle.

"I just want my life back, is all. I mean -"

"No." The smile is gone, his demeanor and stance hard and cold. Namette pale, wrenching Nametter chin from his grasp and take a step back, angry, before Namette turn around and storm away towards the bay. A quick dip in the cool water should relieve the burning anger in Nametter chest.

Unbeknownst to Namette, Jack watches Namette go, a pensive look on his face.


	18. Chapter 18

THIS STORY HAS BEEN BASTARDIZED BY FANFICTION dot NET! FOR THE CORRECT, BETTER, VERSION VISIT ANY OTHER DECENT FANFICTION SITE SUCH AS: Archive of Our own, or DeviantART.

Chapter 18.

Week 6, day 3 of captivity.

Jack has not put on his mask lately. I think he might have been using it because he was afraid of scaring me or something. In any case, I am starting to get more used to seeing his eyes ... or uh ... his non-existing eyes, basically. Though they aren't that bad, he's quite fetching to be honest.

I've been trying to teach him a few cooking things, like pancakes and just cooking pasta. He's not very good at it, though that is only to be expected. I think he does only eat organs, I have not seen him eat anything else so far.

I'm not sure if I can trust Jack with what he told me, but I'm inclined to believe it. I'll need to talk to father or to mother to find out the truth, but I still remember them asking how I'd feel if I had a sister. I thought they meant that mother might be pregnant, but then again ...

Jack has given me some space when I need it, though. I know he misses his friend. My sister?

He leaves the house at night sometimes, and I really don't want to think about what he does during this time. He always comes home with jars and things. It's best if I don't think too much about it. He's leaving right now, so I think it's about time for bed.

Week 6, day 5 of captivity.

I think I might end up blushing to death. Is that even a thing? Making a long story short (which definitely involved me being pissed at him, again, for not letting me leave), I forgot my clothes back in the room. Had just taken a shower too when I noticed and ran off to get the clothes, and yup ... yeah, Jack was laughing his butt off as I rushed past.

He did compliment my hair though after, he's being awfully nice and sweet. I'm not really sure if I like the way this makes me feel, I mean, there's this weird tingly feeling in my stomach when I see that charming smile he throws my way. He's quite cute. No, no, Namette, get Nametter shit together, will Namette!

I've read a few more of the letters he gave me, and I'm scared that this might actually be true. If it is, why would my father, my real one, just give me away like that?

Found out he also likes to watch [Favorite Show], but he didn't really explain what he liked about it. Either he was lying or he has memory issues, since he didn't really understand the show too well. Or maybe he hasn't watched it in a while. Meh.

Week 6, day 6.

Jack isn't anywhere in the house, which is odd, usually he's here in the morning. I think I'll go to the river bay today and splash around a bit, since always seeing the same four walls is boring. And I think I've read every book in this house. As well as the papers Jack left in the study. The letters are quite interesting and ... well, they sound like father a bit too much to be fake, I guess?

I'm taking the book on strange diseases and conditions with me though, to the river, I want to see if my sister (this is weird) had been sick. Reading through her diaries, she did mention her skin growing darker ... maybe?

20:43.

Jack brought some flowers home and put them in the room. He said it was because he felt bad for having left rotting organs in the fridge. I think it's just because he knows I'm struggling a bit with the whole sister thing. The scent of the sweet alyssum is amazing, especially at night. The cold is receding so I think I'll start sleeping with the window open. The rushing of the river is becoming quite soothing at night. Hm, I wonder if Jack feels the same way. I wonder if he also chooses flowers specifically? Forget-me-not's seem a bit symbolic, don't they? I should ask him eventually, as soon as I murder the things in my belly making me feel like I'm about to float off into the distance.

Week 7, day 1.

What a long tiresome day. Me and Jack spent some of the day absolutely destroying the side of the garden I hadn't been to yet. It's around the back and apparently is housing some kind of vegetables.

Jack explained he had gotten it for Felicity - my sister, argh - a short while before getting her the cat. I don't think he wanted to explain why he did it.

But the good thing is, I now have some fresh celery for the soup tonight, that will be awesome.

Jack has also finally deemed it safe enough to remove these bloody anklets, so I feel like I'm light as a feather. He apparently got me the bracelet though, the one that I had back home... or maybe it was my sister's? I'm not too sure, but it's coated in gold and it's not flaking off, so it's fine. And not to be cliché, but ... he did say that he wanted to know where I was, so that he can always be by my side. It's ... sweet, though slightly creepy. It makes me not want to take the silly, loud, thing off though.

His torso though, when he took off his shirt back in the garden ... Holy macaroni and cheeseballs, I swear, if I don't die blushing, it'll be a miracle...

But ...

I'm not, I repeat, not, falling for a murderer!

Maybe this is just that syndrome where Namette fall for Nametter kidnapper but ... I don't know.

Week 7, day 3.

Jack almost kissed me this morning after a particularly harsh case of the coughing fit again, though he was interrupted by something coming from my laptop. He left this morning and hasn't come back home yet. I hope he won't be gone for too long.

Week 7, day 4.

He's still gone ... I think I also found out that Felicity was indeed sick ... I'll need to read up on it, but I only have the one book, so we'll see what comes up.

If it IS Argyria though, then Jack is not afflicted by it, it doesn't cause Namette to not have eyes or those teeth and it surely doesn't cause Namette to eat human organs. I really want Jack to come back, maybe I can ask him if he knows about it?

I kind of miss him, to be honest.

Week 7, day 5 of captivity.

Jack is still gone, and I have read everything I could find about Argyria. I think I can confirm that this is what my sister had. I would like to talk to a doctor to confirm my theory, but this isn't genetic. And it doesn't cause death. How did she die?

Week 7, day 6 of captivity.

Jack is still gone. Where is he?

Week 8, day 6 of Jack being gone.

Jack still hasn't returned. Please, I hope he's OK. I hope nothing happened to him.

I think I may-


	19. Chapter 19

THIS STORY HAS BEEN BASTARDIZED BY FANFICTION dot NET! FOR THE CORRECT, BETTER, VERSION VISIT ANY OTHER DECENT FANFICTION SITE SUCH AS: Archive of Our own, or DeviantART.

Chapter 19.

Namette startle awake because Namette are choking. Something is blocking Nametter windpipes, Nametter lungs burn for air, and Namette try to push the weight off Namette. The weight quickly gets up, letting Namette gulp in deep breaths of the sweet night air, though it doesn't let Namette go. It pulls Namette close and Namette can hear ragged, sharp breaths, feel them on the naked skin of Nametter shoulder.

"J-Jack?" Namette whisper, catching a little bit of grey from the corner of Nametter vision.

"Y-yeah, it's me, sorry, Namette, I just ... I'm so happy to see Namette." he whispers, pulling back and holding Namette at arm's length, checking Namette up and down. Satisfied to see that Namette are OK, he pulls Namette into a hug again, which Namette return with more confusion in Namette than anything else.

"Is everything OK, Jack?" Namette ask. He nods, his teeth glimmering in the moonlight and Namette put a hand on his shoulder. The wince makes Namette retreat the hand quickly, only to notice it is wet and sticky and warm. He's bleeding.

"Jack!" Namette jump up, quickly turning on the light and taking in his appearance. His hair is wild, mask pulled to the side so that Namette can only see half of his face which is streaked with red spots. Blood. But quite obviously not his blood. His dark hoodie is gleaming though in the light, and Namette see that his shoulder gleams more brightly.

"Fuck, Jack, Namette're hurt!" Namette whisper in shock, before moving towards him and tugging at the bottom of the hoodie. He nods, quiet, and helps Namette remove the clothing, followed by the black T-shirt he is wearing underneath on colder days. His shoulder is black with his blood, but it's not bleeding anymore. Namette can see an incision, which indicates that Jack has been stabbed.

"Namette're not allergic to alcohol, right?" Namette inquire and he shakes his head. His facial expression is weird, almost as if staring at Namette in wonder or surprise, but Namette'd rather treat his wound before Namette find out what has happened.

"I'll be right back." Namette rush out of the room before he can even say a single word, dashing for the bathroom where Jack has stored some alcohol and bandages. Namette grab them, not trusting Nametterself with the sewing utensils. It doesn't look deep enough to need stitches though, so Namette hope a few bandages and a kiss would do the trick. Namette fight down the blush at not only Nametter thought of kissing his shoulder better but also of the sight of him bare-chested in what Namette now call Nametter room ... on Nametter bed. Now is not, I repeat, not the time for these kind of thoughts.

Namette look at him apologetically as he hisses at the contact of the alcohol to his skin. The cut is towards his biceps so that Namette can wrap the bandage around and underneath the armpit to keep it clean.

"What happened?" Namette ask as Namette are gently wrapping his shoulder in gauze. It is only now that Namette notice that his mask is lying discarded on the bed and he's shaking slightly ... The bed dips as Namette sit down next to him, grabbing a hold of his hand and squeezing it reassuringly.

He seems more mad than sad, but Namette can tell he's upset.

"I - Before I tell Namette what happened, Namette have to know I kill people. I kill them and then I eat them. Sometimes I do this because I want to, but usually because I have to. For food ... or because my boss requires it of me."

Namette nod, most of this not news to Namette. Namette don't particularly agree with it, but Namette still nod.

"Good. I - My boss required me to check out a ... common interest of ours, see what was going on there because we had gotten wind that he was doing something. When I got there, I was caught by surprise as they had guessed, or something, that I was coming and - God dang, that bastard, I don't know what he's planning but I don't like it. If I could have, I would have killed him, right then, right there when I killed his silvery co-workers." He clenches his teeth, his hand wrapping around Nametters painfully. Namette let out a soft whimper and his features almost instantly soften as he gazes upon Namette. His hold grows gentle and his thumb grazes over Nametter skin.

"I won't let him hurt Namette, Namette know?" he mumbles, then shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts.

"He killed someone I cared for, I won't let that happen again." he growls. Namette frown, before tilting Nametter head.

"Felicity?" Namette ask, and his face snaps to Nametters again, before his shoulder slumps tiredly. He hisses out in pain.

"Yes."

Namette scoot closer to him, intertwining both of Nametter fingers with a slight blush, then prompt him to continue, to explain.

"Namette know she looked like me right?" He barely waits for Nametter nod before he continues "Well, her father ... Nametter father ... knew she looked different. He was a highly religious man, very doting and loving to his family. Then Nametter mother died when Felicity was born. I think the grief made him a bit crazy, he would constantly pray. Nametter sister told me that he did it to keep her and Namette safe, the sister that she couldn't have. Namette were poor, allergic to silver, which he worked with and which was always present in the house, so Namette were constantly sick. This is why he gave Namette away, Namette. Nametter allergy." He stops and Namette nod, letting him know Namette have understood so far.

"But then, Felicity became like me, I don't know, I just know she was like me and it made me so happy to have someone to confide in, to be my friend. Nametter father though, he ... he went crazy. He thought Nametter sister was a demon, possessed or something, evil, so he brought her here so that he wouldn't have to kill his daughter because ... I don't know, the man is crazy."

He stands, pacing the floor for a few seconds. "In any case, he left her here, to rot, to suffer, came by every week to bring her food, but he stopped ... I think he saw me and was then sure something was wrong. I - I don't know why he stopped. Maybe he understood she had to eat what I did? He saw me though for sure, caught us by surprise when we were both listening to music and ... I don't know. He came over quite often after, trying to catch me, blaming me for her being different. Always screaming about something, with candles and chalk and knives ... trying to exorcise Nametter sister, I ... She ... Felicity always told me not to hurt him, that she loved him. Nametter father was a monster, Namette! But Nametter sweet innocent sister, she, just, she didn't want to see it."

Namette grab his hand again, pulling him into an embrace that has him shaking and quivering. Nametter shirt top feels wet and warm and Namette know he is crying.

"He killed her. Y-Nametter father just ... killed her. Just like that, she was gone." A sob rips out of his throat and Namette can tell now, tell that he's been alone and suffering because he has lost the only person that has told him he isn't the only one on this world like him.

Namette swear to never tell him that she had just been sick. That he is indeed one of a kind, that he is alone in this world in a way. Namette wouldn't dare do that to him.

His shaking increases, silent sobs racking his form. Worried, Namette pull him closer and all of a sudden, a pained shriek tears itself from his lungs. He breaks, and Namette hold him, trying not to let his pieces shatter completely.

"Why would he kill Namette?! What did Namette do to him that he had to take Namette away from me!? Namette're so beautiful, Felicity, I should never have left Namette, I should have stayed with Namette, never have let Nametter father see me and think he was right! Namette died because I couldn't protect Namette! Felicity, why won't Namette answer me!?" He pushes Namette onto the bed, straddling Namette so that his face is over Nametters, his tears falling on Nametter cheeks, cheeks flushes, face pained.

"Talk to me Felicity, please, please, please tell me Namette're not gone, please, I don't want to be alone anymore. Please forgive me! Namette gave me everything, only to take it away again! Why did I have to meet Namette, why do I - I hate Namette ... I don't want to be alone ..." he cries out. Namette're shocked for a few seconds, before lifting Nametter hand to his cheek, wiping his tears away with a thumb. Nametter whisper is soft and understanding, barely audible, but it's apparent he hears it, as his face almost immediately relaxes, even if his shaking does not subside, or the hiccups of his cries. "It's not Nametter fault. I promise, Jack, Namette are not alone."


	20. Chapter 20

THIS STORY HAS BEEN BASTARDIZED BY FANFICTION dot NET! FOR THE CORRECT, BETTER, VERSION VISIT ANY OTHER DECENT FANFICTION SITE SUCH AS: Archive of Our own, or DeviantART.

Chapter 20.

It had been hours, maybe 2 or 3, until Jack had finally stopped shaking and crying completely and fallen asleep. Though he had been in a state where he apparently didn't recognize Namette as Nametterself, calling Namette by Nametter sister's name repeatedly, Namette can't bring Nametterself to hold the broken, but slowly mending, boy - maybe a demon? - accountable for his words.

Namette don't want to know the pain he has been going through and barely wish it upon Nametter worst enemy. At this point, Nametter biological father is becoming a possible candidate for exactly that.

Namette remain in bed with Jack though, alternating between being asleep and watching him, his arms tightly wrapped around Nametter waist as he is sleeping, his head cushioned on Nametter chest. His breathing has turned regular, calm and serene, his brown hair tickling the tip of Nametter nose. It is weird thinking that, at this precise moment, Namette are holding an organ eating murderer who has, indeed, killed a number of people in his lifetime. Deciding not to reside on that train of thought for too long, Namette try to disentangle Nametterself from Jack's long limbs. He holds Namette closer, but eventually lets go to scratch his neck. Light is starting to stream through the open window, but not glaringly so, as it is still shadowed by the tall evergreen trees outside the cabin.

Stretching, Namette make quick work of taking a shower then getting dressed in something a bit lighter. Namette decide to check on Jack before getting breakfast.

Nametter eyes land on his figure, sitting in the bed, hair obviously ruffled by sleep, a smudge of dark on his cheek. The bed, of course, is a mess with his tears, blood and other people's blood staining the sheets, which has been the main reason Namette had decided to take a shower. Speaking of, Namette wrinkle Nametter nose.

"Go take a shower, Jack, Namette reek." And with a smile, Namette turn and go into the kitchen to prepare some toast. Namette decide not to mention the previous night.

The water in the upstairs bathroom running alerts Namette to the fact that Jack has indeed taken Namette up on the instruction and is washing the grime from his well built body.

Geez, the guy just had a breakdown and Namette are thinking of his - admittedly hot - body. Very sympathetic of Namette, Namette chide Nametterself with a mental groan.

Namette are so engrossed in scolding Nametterself over Nametter thoughts, Namette don't notice the subject of Nametter thoughts approaching Namette from behind, until it is too late.

Namette breath leaves Namette in a huff as he slams Namette against the wall, Nametter wrists pinned above Nametter head, the shirt sliding up to reveal Nametter navel.

"J-Jack, w-what is -" Namette briefly wonder if this is it, if this is how Namette are going to die, killed by the man, boy, whatever, whom Nametter heart would flutter and go crazy over. Nametter thoughts again come to a screeching halt as his lips press against Nametters, gentle in comparison to the harsh hold he has on Nametter wrists.

Namette stand frozen, for about two seconds and he's retreating as Namette finally give in, Nametter body relaxing and going slack in his grip. There's a grin tugging at his grey lips as he swoops in again, licking Nametter bottom lip and begging for permission Namette are only too happy to provide. The moment Nametter lips fall open, he takes advantage of Nametter weakness, covering Nametter mouth with his, his tongue desperately mapping the inside of Nametter mouth like it's the only chance he'll get.

_"Felicity, why won't Namette answer me?" _His words rush back to Namette, only all too aware of the way his unnaturally hot body presses against Namette, and Namette manage to move Nametter head to the side, effectively breaking the kiss. He doesn't stop, moving to nibble the side of Nametter neck which now lies exposed for him, but Namette groan.

"S-stop, Jack." Namette stutter. Namette're grateful that he complies, though when Namette look back at him Namette almost apologize. He looks like a kicked puppy, hurt and sad. He quickly lets Namette go, taking a few steps back.

"I'm s-sorry, I just thought - I - Namette ..." He's stuttering, and Namette feel even worse, before grabbing Nametter non-existing courage and looking him dead in the eye.

"Jack, I do like Namette, I really do and holy god, Namette are hot, but - I told Namette once ... I'm not my sister. I'm not Felicity." And god, of course Namette like him, of course Nametter heart and body yearn for him. No matter how much Namette tell Nametterself Namette don't, god dangit all to hell, Namette do. Which makes Nametter heart beat painfully, knowing that he doesn't want Namette, but the sister Namette have never met.

So, of course Namette're confused by the sly smirk spreading across his face, his shark-like teeth glinting in the sun. He is a hunter and Namette are his prey. Namette gulp.

"Is that all, Namette?" Before Namette can even nod, he has Namette pinned against the wall again, his lips brushing Nametter ear as he whispers.

"Don't worry, Namette -" He stresses Nametter name, making his breath fan over Nametter neck and ear. A little moan passes past Nametter lips, which Namette rapidly try to bite down. He chuckles at this. "- Nametter sister was my friend, I loved her, but Namette, my dear, are unique and I have Namette, I want Namette ... and I need to make Namette mine."

This time, Namette fail to even pretend to hold in the moan, Jack chuckles again, a dark and arousing sound Namette can't get enough of.

And as he pulls Namette with a smirk to Nametter bedroom, Namette blush at his next words.

"Oh, this will be _interesting_."


	21. Chapter 205

THIS STORY HAS BEEN BASTARDIZED BY FANFICTION dot NET! FOR THE CORRECT, BETTER, VERSION VISIT ANY OTHER DECENT FANFICTION SITE SUCH AS: Archive of Our own, or DeviantART.

Chapter 20.5 (also known as Teh Lemon)

Namette stumble backwards as Jack practically pushes Namette inside his room. Namette haven't cleaned this room but Namette find it surprisingly clean, even if a bit messy. There are clothes in the corner, some obviously stained red, and a large walk-in closet on the wall facing the bed. It takes Namette just a few seconds to take this in, in which time Jack has already disposed of his hoodie and is standing bare chested in the middle of the room.

Namette gulp. Namette have seen him without a shirt before, the sun shining on his grey skinned back, but Namette have never had the chance to actually observe him like this. The early morning sun frames his chestnut hair and his breathing makes his chest rise and fall lightly. He's breathtaking. He's not rigged, which would have struck Namette as odd if he were, but lean and muscular enough to where Namette can see a bit of his toned abs. His nipples are a dark shade of grey. His shoulder are indeed toned, along with his biceps, and his strong jaw gives way to smirking grey lips.

Smirking.


	22. Chapter 21

THIS STORY HAS BEEN BASTARDIZED BY FANFICTION dot NET! FOR THE CORRECT, BETTER, VERSION VISIT ANY OTHER DECENT FANFICTION SITE SUCH AS: Archive of Our own, or DeviantART.

Chapter 21.

Your eyes flutter open to the unfamiliar feeling of arms around your waist, a strong warm presence at your back. Soft breathing hits the back of your neck, a pair of long legs intertwined with yours, hands laying on your stomach. You turn you head and catch a glimpse of Jacks hair peeking over your shoulder, his face nestled against your shoulder blades. You blush deeply as he moves, remembering the state of undress you are currently in.

You really, really, need to pee.

Jacks hold on you tightens around your stomach, making the urge even stronger, and not able to hold it you disentangle yourself from his limbs, remembering how muscles work, and traipse to the cold bathroom to relieve yourself. Your muscles ache in a satisfied pleasurable way you can't quite describe.

When you return to the room, quick shower taken and other businesses attended to you are very quickly pulled back into the safety cocoon that Jack has built for the two of you. The blankets descend over your head and Jack is straddling you, face against your neck and inhaling deeply.

"Good morning, you." he says, his voice raspy from sleep. You think you could wake up to that sound everyday and you wouldn't mind. You question your sanity, maybe in need of some psychological analysis, not that you know much about it. It feels comfortable, it's a nice feeling. You don't particularly care so you don't really analyze it.

"Morning. Mind telling me why we're still in bed?"

"Well, I am in bed, you deemed it OK to leave me without informing me where to. Thus I have to ensure you are safe and unharmed." he smirks in mischief and as he moves down on your body you groan.

Up for round two?

The microwave beeps, signaling that your meal is ready to be devoured. You had worked yourself an appetite and were more than happy to satiate it with some re-heated rattatouie, ingredients having came from the recently rehabilitated veg garden out back. It would be weird for breakfast, but it was way past noon already anyways.

When Jack enters the kitchen you can tell straight away that something is amiss. He's holding a phone in one hand, a paper in his other, his gaze, somehow, locked upon you, though he's wearing his mask again. Which strikes you as odd since he hasn't worn his mask in quite a while in your presence.

"(Name), I need to leave."

You place the dish on the table and turn to face him fully.

"You just got back a few days ago... It's not even been two weeks!"

"I need to- take care of something. And... I think it's time you returned home."

There's silence between the both of you, the information, a simple sentence, hitting you straight at your heart. You would have jumped at this chance a few weeks ago, but now... somehow you didn't really want to leave. It was peaceful here, it's was beautiful. You had no problems, no issues, you had an amazing guy that was - quite honestly - quite talented in many ways and... You missed your friends, Jess mainly, and you didn't want to worry your parents too much but you really didn't want to leave.

So you do what you can do best at this point. You become stubborn.

"No."

"No?"

"No."

He doesn't turn away, doesn't act angry or upset, he just seems... confused... a bit relieved. You think the smirk, which again you've become great at reading even through the mask at the small twitch of the blue piece, is weird but, then again, you feel yourself smile in return.

"I thought you wanted to leave here you, to go back to your life, talk to Jess again, see your family maybe? It's what you told me that you wanted." he says, taking a step closer, head tilted to the side. You glare at him, moving closer as well, before moving your hand up to his face. He flinches and you almost retreat but something tells you, you need to do this.

"Jack, I told you, I'm not leaving. I'm staying. And although I know you can make me leave, I'd really appreciate it if you didn't."

His shoulders sag, a sign you've come to understand as him giving in, and you pull his mask up, enough to uncover his lips, and place a short yet sweet kiss on them. He responds almost instantly, but the urgency you had noticed in the previous days is gone, replaced by something akin to affection, relief. You didn't know if this was just him playing with you but at this point you didn't really care either.

When he pulls back he holds out the phone as well as the little piece of paper.

"Ok, well, I still need to leave for a while but, I'll be back, I promise." he says, running a hand down your arm to linger over your stomach. You nod before glancing at the item.

"Oh, yes, of course. I will have a few friends bring a boat here, just in case, and also have made sure the internet and cell phone reception is working so that you can go ahead and call someone... and uh... just, (Name), stay safe ok? You should be fine here, a few... friends... are looking over the place but still..." he trails off. You nod with a smile.

He leans forward, giving your neck a quick lick, then, pulling the mask back down and into place, leaves the cabin swiftly. He's quite quick on his feet., you think before letting your eyes travel to the phone. Your parents. How about confirming Jack's story now that you can?

You grin, bouncing outside to the swing and taking a seat, kicking off into a gentle sway. You quickly dial your parents number but sigh exasperated as the dial tone goes straight to voicemail.

"Hi, you've reached the [Parent's L/N] household. Sadly we can't pick up right now, but leave a message after the beep." you groan hanging up then quickly dial Jess' number.

The phone rings a few times before Jess voice pipes in. She sounds tired, exhausted, not anything like Jess at all.

"Hello? Who's this?" the sound of her voice almost makes you tear up but you don't, quickly biting down on the feeling. You had made your bed now you must lay in it, after all you had decided to stay here. Hearing Jess' voice though, was so sweet on your ears.

"Jess?" your voice cracks a little but you know she heard you. The sharp intake of breath is sign enough of this.

"[N-Name?]" her voice quivers and you can hear the shudder in it. She's crying.

"I- yeah... it's me Jess."

The line goes quiet, then you can hear sobs and shivers and the rustling sound that Jess was moving around.

"Jess, listen, I'm sorry I left you in the dark but... it's a long, long story." Jess seems to have stopped moving and even her sobs are quieter.

"I have all the time in the world (Name), but, should I call the cops? An ambulance? Where are you?" you can hear her sit down.

"I'm fine, don't worry... actually I'm great. I'll tell you everything ok? I promise just... no cops. Don't let anyone know I'm here, I haven't actually talked to Jack about this but, I had to hear your voice. I tried calling my parents but nothing. They're not picking up."

The was a short moment of silence on Jess' side, filled with guilt on your side for feeling as good as you do when she, and probably your parents too, had been a miserable wreck, before a sigh escaped her lips.

"Yeah, I've been trying to call them too. You were declared missing almost two days after you disappeared and... the police thought you were dead you know? Something about broken glass and uh, something with your housemates. They asked me about the guy following you, sorry. I told them almost everything, even some coworkers did. We all thought... we all thought you had died. I-" she broke off into a sob.

"Shhhh, it's ok Jess, I'm fine ok? I promise. Look, I've been holding a diary since I got here and, how about this, I'll send the whole thing to you and keep you in the know so you know I'm fine?"

There was silence again, drawn out, before she giggles "I forgot you couldn't see me and was nodding like an idiot."

That was the old Jess.

"Anyways, (Name), your parents have gone... somewhere, I don't know. They haven't answered my calls, the cops asked if I knew where they went but they just, up and left. I think they didn't take the news too well to be honest. I heard rumors they'd packed and came here to look for you or something... but I can't tell you for sure..."

"It's ok Jess, don't worry. I'll find them eventually. They're probably worried sick and I have so much to talk to them about. I just need to talk to Jack first."

Silence.

"(Name), is Jack the guy who had been stalking you?" she asked, voice tense, poised and more than worried.

"I... yeah... look, I'll go more into detail in the diaries but here's the gist of it."

You took ages to recount almost everything that had happened, including the slightly embarrassing encounter with Jack under the sheets. You could hear her blush through the phone and smirked. If there was anyone who was a prude regarding the adventure in bed (or out), it was Jess.

It's at least three hours later, after talking and reminiscing, that you both hang up, ears burning. You feel happy, light. Jess had broken down a couple of times, often confessing she'd seen you on a corner or at her window and that she had missed you. Her last words, before you both hung up, still made your heart ache.

"I really hope I don't wake up tomorrow and find this was all a dream."

You glance at the internet password now, with a frown, your promise to Jess now definitely having to be kept. You quickly establish a connection on the computer, making sure to send the diaries to Jess almost immediately. You sigh, looking at the bed then at the computer.

Maybe some research on a few things would turn out to be beneficial. The bed beckoned and lured you with promises of rest and warmth. But you need to do this, you need to find out information, information you hadn't been able to get until now. Groaning, and knowing Jack won't be back for a while, you prepare a bowl of Ramen and sit down for some long needed research.

A/N:

THANK NAMETTE ALL FOR ALL THE LOVELY ATTENTION! you guys seriously make me happy and give me strength to continue posting!

Stellar: Although I know the answer is quite late, thank you for your interest, and I hope that Jack has properly introduced himself now ;)

Superkassu: THANK NAMETTE! Sweetest review. I was hoping to tug on some heartstrings with Jacks story, I'm happy I kind of managed to. Hope you keep enjoying and thank you for your feedback. You give me strength

Silks


	23. Chapter 22

THIS STORY HAS BEEN BASTARDIZED BY FANFICTION dot NET! FOR THE CORRECT, BETTER, VERSION VISIT ANY OTHER DECENT FANFICTION SITE SUCH AS: Archive of Our own, or DeviantART.

Chapter 22.

Birds take off to the sky as you throw a book from the "to throw away" pile out of the window, followed by a loud angered scream. You've been trying to do research since Jack has been gone, having left about 5 days ago. You had researched Argyria without an incident, proving your theory right and proof lying in the fact that she had, indeed, worked with her father at the silver factory. The silver had, in turn, made your sister sick, making her skin grey in color, her tears black.

When you then decided to look up Jack, searching for "eyeless", "blue mask" and "murderer" you were surprised at how many recounting, stories and information you found on him. The moment you tried to search deeper into the information Google displayed the website closed on its own. Damned bugs.

When, after that, you tried to search for information on your parents, Google wouldn't work anymore. You decided to bite the bullet and switch to Explorer, without any luck. Any time you'd start typing the first letters of your parents names in the search bar the bloody thing would die. You groaned, frustrated, deciding to look for your own name. It struck you as weird that the search engine was working during this attempt, some websites however, for some reason, not working as intended. You had been reported as missing, presumed dead at the hands of the psychotic murderer that had been killing people at the Business Park, which had been temporarily closed after 3 weeks and several other cases of dead people. When you introduced "victims" followed by the months you had been in captivity, current year and the name of the Industrial Estate the engine crashed again. You screamed in frustration, grabbed the nearest book and threw it out of the window.

A small ding informs you that something had happened on the computer.

Cleverbot was opened. On its own. Go figure. Seems Google was acting up in all kinds of ways now.

Frowning you sit in front of it, ignoring the website and starting your anti virus to look for Viruses or spyware or anything really. Maybe Jack had been on... less favorable websites. That done, and still reeling from the frustration at the computer not working you turn to the website, shrugging. Beats the silence.

User: Hello.

Cleverbot: How are you?

User: Frustrated like noones business.

Cleverbot: Why?

User: My computer keeps messing up.

Cleverbot: Aww, sorry.

User: It's OK. I just wanted to know what happened while I was missing.

Cleverbot: I ate it.

User: Lol, you ate what?

Cleverbot: The information

User: That's not nice, I really needed that info.

Cleverbot: I didn't want to, he asked me to.

User: Who asked you to eat the information?

Cleverbot: Him.

User: Who are you talking about?

Cleverbot: Holst!

User: Who the hell is Holst?

Cleverbot: Bon Jovi is a Band that originated in the 80s. They are amazing!

You chuckle before looking around the room. You had talked to Cleverbot before of course, it was always fun to try and get it to admit it was, indeed, a robot talking. Not that it generally did, but the amusement was there. And anyways, you feel lonely, the house silent. Even the birds seem to have quieted... of course it was quite far into the night currently, but still, it bothered you.

User: So what's your name?

Cleverbot: Why do you want to know?

User: I just don't want to feel so alone, since Jack's gone.

Cleverbot: you don't want to, because you can't. Also you aren't.

User: So I'm not alone?

Cleverbot: No. You're not alone.

User: you still haven't told me your name.

Cleverbot: you don't need it. I'm a ghost.

User: What's your name?

Cleverbot: It started with a 'B' ... Bruno?

User: Do you mean Cleverbot?

Cleverbot: No.

User: So you're not a robot?

Cleverbot: No.

you sigh, bored already of the conversation.

User: I miss Jack.

Cleverbot: I miss him too.

User: Silly. I hope he's OK.

Cleverbot: He's a joke.

User: That's not nice to say about him, Jack's not a joke.

Cleverbot: you're not nice.

User: Nicer than you for sure. And you're not helping me when I'm worried.

Cleverbot: Helping what?

User: Shut up.

Cleverbot: That's rude.

User: I said shut up.

Cleverbot: you've met with a terrible fate, haven't you?

User: No.

You groan, annoyed at the robot, then close the laptop altogether, just in time to hear the unfamiliar sounds of a motor boat approaching the island. This doesn't sound like Jacks boat, the familiar hum engraved into your mind through hours planning on escaping and days wishing to hear it's return. You quickly move towards the front of the house, dashing through the woods to see who would have came here. You don't recognize any of the two guys, one stepping out of one of the boats, having came here in separate ones. They move so as to face you, the one with a white mask and effeminate features drawn onto it in black approaching you quickly. You remembered Jack saying that someone would bring you a boat, just in case. You decide not to pry, accepting the keys with a small, quiet thank you. You couldn't get a look at the other guy, who decided to stay with the boat and behind the leaves surrounding the small bay.

The guy with the mask nods and quickly departs in one of the boats. The whole encounter was over with in less than five minutes.

Weird.

Shrugging it off you return to the cabin, sitting in front of the fireplace which was becoming unnecessary even at night as the temperature rose with the settling of spring, keys safely pocketed.

With a sigh and a shake of your head you move to the bedroom, closing the door in your wake.

Where was Jack?

A/N:

Superkassu: Thank you! Yes, the trust had been forming slightly and slowly, but I think since reader hasn't tried to escape lately, he'd end up trusting... and anyways, it's so peaceful and calm on the island, would you really want to leave? Especially with a hunk of a man like Jack there? Heh

Stay tuned for the, uh, rest... This chapter is more of a filler than anything else, meant more as a small Easter gift than anything, so not much happened here.

And to burst your bubble, at the end of this story, you might have more questions than answers XD

Best Regards

And Love

Silks


	24. Chapter 23

THIS STORY HAS BEEN BASTARDIZED BY FANFICTION dot NET! FOR THE CORRECT, BETTER, VERSION VISIT ANY OTHER DECENT FANFICTION SITE SUCH AS: Archive of Our own, or DeviantART.

Chapter 23.

It's a week and a half later that Namette're again woken up by Jack, in the middle of the night. He's holding onto Namette, laying in bed, hands laying comfortably on Nametter stomach. Namette smile, sending a soft greeting, as his hands pull Namette close to his body, his form laying against Nametter back, strong and present, his hold unrelenting. He kisses Nametter neck, urging Namette to go to sleep and a soft "We'll talk in the morning.". With his arm around Nametter waist, hand on Nametter belly, Namette both fall into a deep slumber.

When Namette finally awake Namette can hear Jack in the bathroom. The water is running and Namette grin, making Nametter way into the bathroom and opening the door. Namette stay a few minutes, admiring his well built body under the water, the grey skin glistening in the light that filters from the window. He's gorgeous. It takes a bit for Namette to notice that he's stopped moving, his face pointed directly at Namette with a small suggestive smile. Namette blush but before Namette can turn and leave he's beckoning Namette into the shower.

Namette giggle but don't think twice about preserving the water.

Namette're sitting on the couch, Jack has gone to dispose of any rotting organs he had left in the fridge. AT least this time none of them had been open so Namette hadn't had to deal with the smell. The reminder of the stench still turns Namette queasy every now and then. When he returns he lets himself fall onto the couch with a huff, long legs stretched in front of him, making Namette bounce form the impact.

"We need to talk Namette."

"I agree, so spill it." Namette say, proceeding to mute the damned TV which has been behaving odd the entire week, along with the computer and other appliances in the house. Living on an Island probably had some negative effect on the mechanics. Not that Namette care too much to be honest.

Jack grabbing Nametter hand and pulling Namette close to him snaps Namette out of Nametter irritated thoughts towards the still on the fritz computer upstairs and the lengthy conversations Namette had with something that was a robot.

"Nametter father has been trying to kill me... and my friends."

Wow, way to drop a bomb Jack. Namette stay silent, mouth opening and closing, imitating a fish before snapping Nametterself out of it. Namette open Nametter mouth to say something but he quickly shakes his head.

"Worse, he knows where we are and is coming for me... for Namette, the two." he doesn't further his information, head tilted to the side.

"H-how?" Namette ask, a bit apathetic at the sudden revelation.

He pulls out the phone from his pocket, the one he had given Namette, tapping it against Nametter thigh.

"This. Did Namette tell anyone about me?" he inquires, his voice light. Namette almost shake Nametter head in the negative before Namette remember the lengthy calls Namette had had with Jess. It scares Namette a little, but Namette quickly nod.

"Y-yes... uh... I called Jess." Namette don't tell him Namette sent her Nametter diaries, since not even he knew of the ones Namette kept, on the computer, some written down. Namette'd had multiple conversations with Jess during the week.

But...

"What, wait, how did he even-" before Namette can continue he interrupts Namette again.

"What about before Namette came here, did Namette tell anyone Namette had talked to me? Apart from Jess of course." Namette frown, shaking Nametter head slowly before stopping. No... Namette had...

"I d-did. That day I first saw Namette, at the company... I told a colleague I had seen Namette. M-Markus... Namette had... oh god-" Namette tended to forget he killed people. How could Namette... no, snap out of it, Namette had made Nametter bed. Lay in it.

"Namette killed a friend of his, uhm, Roberts." Namette mumble, sitting a bit straighter, slightly tenser. Jack pulls Namette close to him again, his arm around Nametter shoulders.

"Relax, I'm not angry. I didn't say Namette couldn't call anyone. I didn't even know about this Markus. Really tall guy, brown shaggy hair and really dark eyes?" his question strikes Namette as odd, but as Namette relax back into his side Namette nod.

"Y-yeah, that's him. Namette're not going to... hurt... him right?"

There are a few moments of silence, which had Namette squirming uncomfortably, before he sighs.

"I'm sorry, he was making threats against Namette, against us. I'm sorry, I can't make any promises." he averts his gaze but Namette swallow Nametter shock and sadness over the guy Namette had once shared a house with. He wasn't dead yet.

"Tell me what happened... From the beginning please."

He nods, pulling Namette even closer, his arms vice like, like binds against Nametter body.

"Fine. My ... boss ... had me following someone that we knew worked with Nametter father. A blonde short girl who worked with Roberts who has been very close to him-"

"Tessa?"

"Yes, exactly. In any case, I had been following her but something was weird. She headed to this building where she met up with Markus. Nametter father wasn't around but they were talking and she told him, over the phone, that they had been able to triangulate the correct location, followed by the general location where we are at. I'm not sure if I was just incredibly lucky to have overheard at that exact moment, but in any case, the issue stands. Namette guys are not safe here, neither am I."

Namette frown, but decide to let his slip of tongue go. If he referred to Namette in plural again Namette'd definitely talk to him about it.

"So, Markus joined my father for his... revenge?"

"In short, yes."

Namette frown "And not in short?"

"Not in short, Nametter father has been able to convince a few people that I have been able to possess Namette like I did with Nametter sister and wants to eradicate the demons from this world. Also, Markus might have joined because I killed his friend?"

Nametter frown deepens, an irking thought not leaving the forefront of Nametter mind.

"Why did he kill my sister? If she was here, locked away, with nothing to do... why?"

There is silence, apart from the ever constant gushing of the river and the birds and the little bell as Namette move Nametter arm to better face Jack. The look of utter contempt on his face actually makes Namette shrink back. This was a man who hated someone with his hole being, who could maybe base an entire existence on the hatred for one single person on this world.

"Humans are a weird species, did Namette know? Namette eat weird things and Namette react in such different ways. But most humans like to blame others for the things they are at fault at. They like to blame things and people for when things go sour. Humans believe in a higher power to bring them luck - and bad luck - when it best suits them. It is easier to say someone or something else did it and not be at fault.

Nametter father, after he left Felicity here, started drinking. Without his daughter to keep him in check, he didn't really care too much about what surrounded him. I think Nametter sister had been the only thing to keep him balanced after the death of Nametter mother. I saw pictures of her... Felicity looked a lot like her." Namette lay a hand on his bicep and he pulls Namette closer to him, his chin resting on the top of Nametter head a hand on Nametter stomach.

"So he started drinking and going to work drunk. At first he only lost his job, then he started playing poker and had his fare share of bad luck at that game, then his house burnt down because he forgot to turn the stove off and left the bacon cooking. He blamed Nametter sister for it. She was a demon to him, so he blamed her for his wrong doings. Humans can be so disgusting."

If Namette hadn't noticed the hatred in his voice before, Namette very much did so now.

He shakes his head, kissing the top of Nametter head, pushing Namette away slightly so he can stand.

"In any case, if Namette told Jess that Namette don't really hate me, and they did, indeed, have something to eavesdrop on her, I'm assuming that he's assuming that Namette are possessed already, which definitely leads me to believe that we need to leave as soon as possible and find another place to stay at. Namette aren't safe and that's final."

Namette sigh but nod, silent, as he grabs Nametter hand and pulls Namette to Nametter room.

Namette remember thinking Namette had gotten Nametterself stuck in a horror movie... Namette really hoped Namette were the main character and weren't about to die.

Though that night Namette shared Nametterself with him, somehow he felt more distant, colder. Namette held him close and promised Nametterself not to let him go.


	25. Chapter 24

THIS STORY HAS BEEN BASTARDIZED BY FANFICTION dot NET! FOR THE CORRECT, BETTER, VERSION VISIT ANY OTHER DECENT FANFICTION SITE SUCH AS: Archive of Our own, or DeviantART.

Chapter 24.

Namette drop the purple bag Namette had been packing (courtesy of some unfortunate soul Jack had jumped, as Namette could tell by the name "Courtney" stitched to the front), the moment Namette feel a large hand covering Nametter mouth and nose with a rag. Namette fleetingly remember to not breathe in, but as Namette struggle Namette panic, kicking at whatever is holding Namette, clawing at the hand. Namette breathe in to cry out... the world tilts on its axis and Namette're gone.

Namette wake up to a dark room. The sound of water, or something, dripping in the far reaches of the darkened space filters to Nametter barely functioning ears, which are trying to wake up from whatever Namette had been given to black out. Namette feel like Nametter head is full of cotton and clouds, fuzzy and distant. Namette can't really comprehend fully what is going on and thinking too hard is making Namette dizzy. Namette decide to stay quiet and relaxed, pretend Namette're still asleep, while Nametter brain reboots.

A few seconds later Namette discern that Namette are currently alone and try to move Nametter arms. Namette take a few moments to recognize that Nametter hands aren't moving like Namette wish them to and it takes Namette a few moments more to notice that they're tied down to the chair Namette seem to be sitting on. Nametter butt hurts, Nametter arms are almost asleep and Nametter mouth tastes like ashes. Namette're not quite sure what happened but Namette really don't like the situation Namette're currently in.

Struggling Namette manage to lift Nametter head an inch, the movement making Nametter already spinning head spin even more, and take in the candles at Nametter feet. The light flickering on the ground, cast by the candles, throw large shadows over each other, while illuminating the vicinity closest to Namette... and something else... a pentagram on the floor in... something shiny. Nametter nose is clogged up and Namette really are glad Namette don't have to smell the room, it looks like something that would be quite unpleasant on the olfactory senses.

Namette finally manage to force Nametter head up completely and startle at the presence of a tall, dark haired man in front of Namette.

A tall man Namette recognize barely in the flickering light.

"M-Markus?" Namette stutter with a raspy voice, eyes locked on the familiar face. He's thinner somehow than Namette remembered, his eyes a dark brown that remind Namette of coals. Namette might just be imagining it though, the lights playing tricks on Nametter brain. He takes a step closer, careful not to step on any of the multiple lines Namette now see in the darkness surrounding Namette. Namette seem to be in the middle of some ritualistic drawing on the floor, some white sand like things on the floor, which Namette assumed was salt, surrounding Nametter chair in a circle. Markus takes extra precaution not to disturb this extra line of defense. Namette want to snort but Nametter head is pounding. Instead Namette turn pleading eyes onto the tall figure in front of Namette.

"Markus, please, please, Namette have to help me. I was kidnapped and I need... I have to get out of here. I don't know what's going on!" Nametter voice is a frenetic whisper and his eyes, Namette notice, lower in sadness.

What was going on? Remembering Jacks story Namette shake Nametter head, the movement making Nametter head throb.

"I'm sorry Namette, I can't... the demon is inside Namette, we need to get it out. This is the only way." he murmurs, running a hand through Nametter [H/C] hair. Namette had wished that Jacks story had just been his overactive imagination, that it was safe with him.

"Wait Markus, what demon? What are Namette talking about? What is all this?" Namette tug on the rope around Nametter form, happy to notice that the rope isn't tightly bound, giving leeway. Maybe playing the fool would give Namette some time, buy some credibility with the tall man. How long had Nametter father been spinning stories for him to listen to?

Namette almost grin in victory as Markus moves behind Nametter chair, untying Namette from Namette bonds, his words though making the smile falter.

"We need Namette to cooperate, Namette, for Nametter own good. We really don't want anyone to be hurt here." he says quietly, before slowly pushing Namette towards the small light source in the far end of the room. Namette stumble a bit as Nametter legs remember how to work, Markus quickly wrapping a hand around Nametter elbow to keep Namette from falling. Namette mumble a thank Namette as he helps Namette move.

"So, are Namette letting me go?" Namette question silently, eyes fixed on the floor willing Nametter legs to move... one foot, then the other, left, right, left, right.

"I'm sorry, I can't do that, but if Namette cooperate it'll be over without an effort, no pain, no repercussion, nothing. Namette think Namette can do that? For both of us?" he asks, voice soft. His eyes however show fear, asking for forgiveness, begging for Nametter cooperation. Namette would like to say yes.

"I can't say yes without knowing what it is Namette need of me. What should I do?" Namette ask. Namette don't say yes. Namette couldn't. For all Namette know Nametter cooperation would mean Nametter death, or Jacks. Where was Jack? Was he ok? Worry builds in Namette and Nametter eyes rake of the room, but seeing no one else in the darkened space Namette turn to the only person who would be able to provide Namette answers.

"Where's Jack?" Namette hiss, pulling on Nametter elbow which Markus just hold more tightly.

"First, let's give Namette some answers shall we?" and he pushes Namette lightly into a bathroom, throwing a small stick in with Namette. A stick? What the hell? Namette look around, eyes searching for a window, a door, a vent, anything to help Namette leave. Namette find nothing. Apart from a small toilet and a sink the room is barren. Namette sigh. Namette proceed to take a few gulps of the water to calm Nametter aching throat, then blow Nametter nose to rid Nametterself of the mucus that had built itself from the cold, just to notice that Nametter nose just closed itself off again. Namette look around the room again, eyes falling on the stick. Eyes narrowed, Namette bend over holding onto the wall for support, still shaky, and pick up the stick. Nametter eyes go wide.

What in the ever loving world was this supposed to be? Was this a joke? No surely not, no one would go this far. The pregnancy test in Nametter hand shakes as Namette look at the door.

Markus had to be kidding.

"Let me out Markus!" Nametter fist bangs on the door, rustling following the banging.

"Are Namette done?"

"NO! Markus, let me out this instant, I swear I will murder Namette if Namette don't!" Namette groan, hand falling limply to Nametter side.

"Namette, listen... this is for Nametter best. We already know the answer... we did the blood test while Namette were out, I just thought... well, maybe if Namette did it Nametterself..." his voice fades away from the other side of the door and Nametter eyes fall onto the test again.

Namette didn't want a kid, Namette didn't want to be pregnant. Namette still had years in front of Namette before even the mere thought would be deemed appropriate. And anyways, the only person who could have... gotten Namette pregnant... was Jack. And he wasn't human, he just wasn't. No human would be like him, no eyes and still able to see, sharp teeth, grey skin and a constant craving for human organs. He was no human. If anything Namette agreed with Nametter father on that, he was more a demon than anything else.

But what if? What if he really did manage to knock Namette up? Put a bun in Nametter oven?

Nametter thoughts turn hysterical as Namette think of more phrases, imagine little baby Jacks with no eyes running around, think of how... of how Namette'd just been late in Nametter menstrual cycle... of how Jack had held Nametter stomach... how he'd referred to Namette in plural several times now. Oh god.

Nauseous Namette finally move to the bathroom and did as instructed.

Then Namette wait...

and wait...

and wait...

Groaning Namette decide to take a peek, Nametter stomach in knots. Namette are sweating in cold streams, eyes impossibly large, hands trembling as Namette take the test and stare at it.

"+"

Namette are pregnant. Namette want to do the cliché thing and faint, fade away from this drama, not have to deal with this at all. Namette're pregnant. With Jacks child. Namette're pregnant of a bloody demon thing, which shouldn't even be possible, he wasn't the same species as him, this was all just... not... right...

But Namette knew this to be the truth, hand holding onto the wall for support as Nametter eyes drifted, large and unblinking to Nametter stomach.

Namette were pregnant.

Hoping to come out of this, somehow, intact Namette look frantically again for an out, an exit, and escape, but find none.

Instead Namette knock on the door, face pale, hands shaking, and Markus opens the door without questioning.

"Do Namette understand now Namette?" his voice cuts through Nametter thoughts, bright and sharp.

Before Namette know it Nametter fist collides with his nose, a satisfying crack following the motion, blood splattering onto Nametter own nose and lower lip. Namette glare, eyes spitting venom at the guy who Namette had known for over a year, whom Namette had shared a house with, whom Namette had gone drinking with.

"What the hell Markus! Namette abduct me to tell me I'm p-pregnant? Namette tied me up, Namette knock me out, to tell me I'm pregnant and expecting a kid? How-"

He interrupts Namette with a laugh, hand cradling his nose. It must hurt like hell. Good.

"Expecting a kid? Namette still don't understand do Namette? That is not a kid, [Name}! That is a demon! It's festering in Namette, eating Namette alive, and we, me and a few other, are here to help Namette!" he laughs, throwing his head back in mirth. Namette stare at him.

"This is not a demon, Markus... it's a baby. It's m-my baby." Namette mutter and his laughing stops.

"Namette need to cooperate. It needs to get out, Namette need to expel it. Do Namette understand what I'm saying? It's a demon... it needs to be gone." he takes a step towards Namette, Namette take one step back. Nametter hand cradles Nametter stomach protectively, eyes flitting around looking for a way out. Then Nametter gaze falls upon a door that leads away from the room Namette had been in. Markus, however, anticipates Nametter move and as Namette dash for the door he grabs Nametter hair, pulling Namette back with a yank. The pain flares through Nametter scalp, head ringing with the pain and the after effects of whatever it was that had Namette knocked out earlier.

"I wish Namette had just played along, Namette. It would have made it so much easier for Namette... for me..." he sighs, pulling Namette by Nametter hair back towards the room Namette had come from.

Namette try screaming.

No one is there to hear it.


	26. Chapter 25

THIS STORY HAS BEEN BASTARDIZED BY FANFICTION dot NET! FOR THE CORRECT, BETTER, VERSION VISIT ANY OTHER DECENT FANFICTION SITE SUCH AS: Archive of Our own, or DeviantART.

Chapter 25.

It's been hours. Nametter butt hurts from the cold wood of the chair, Nametter wrists rubbed raw from trying to loosen the rope. Markus had dragged Namette back and tied Namette to the chair, without slack.

The hours on end gave Namette time to ponder Nametter next move. Well, after, and if, Namette got out of here.

Pregnant? Namette? Namette hadn't considered having kids, much less with a murderer. Namette never even expected for it to stick. Shouldn't different species not be able to get pregnant from each other? Namette remember learning something like this in biology, but only fleetingly. It had been too long ago to remember it and in any case, it didn't really matter. Namette would discuss this with Jack, see what he wanted to do. If Namette got out of here. Although Namette didn't particularly want to be a mother it also seemed wrong to... get rid... of the little 'demon' inside of Namette. Nametter head throbs, Nametter mind going in circles, not giving Namette any answers.

Namette should be focusing on how to get out of here!, Nametter mind screams at Namette and Namette groan, giving Nametter wrists a few more tugs. Nothing. It didn't budge. Namette try shaking the chair but it also doesn't move. It seems to be screwed to the floor. The only light provided to Namette are the candles, burning slowly but surely, melting and the light growing dimmer.

The door bangs open.

There are various footsteps coming closer. Figures, tall, short, thin, thick, pour into the room, dressed in a very dark blue. What strikes Namette as odd is that most of them have gauze wrapped around their head and faces. Namette squirm, uncomfortable, as the group surrounds Namette, hands spread out reaching towards Namette but outside of the circle painted with the salt.

Then a sound picks up. Namette frown as Namette notice that the group had started to hum. What the-

"Namette." Markus steps out from behind the group. He is dressed in white, gauze wrapped around his feet and wrists but his face and hands left untouched. He has some weird drawings on his face, painted in red. Nametter nose, still stuffed from the cold and from the few bouts of tears Namette had allowed Nametterself, twitches as the strong pungent smell wafting from Markus manages to break through the mucus in Nametter nose and throat. It burns, but Namette can't really tell what it smells like.

"Please, Namette, I beg of Namette. Reconsider. Play along, allow us to exterminate the demon from Namette. Tell us of the father demon, get rid of the infestation at its core. It needs to come from Namette, the mother must be the Taker of both spawn and devil." he mumbles, kneeling in front of Namette and producing a knife from his sleeve. A silver knife. Namette frown, mulling over his words.

"And then what Markus? Should I stab myself with it? Kill my baby? Kill Jack?"

Markus looks up and nods. Namette gulp and shake Nametter head. Namette're not sure if in shock or only in denial.

"I... I can't... Why must I do this? Why do Namette want me to do this? What is wrong with Namette people, LET ME GO!" Namette scream, struggle with renewed force, pulling at the rope. The humming grows louder just as a chuckle brakes through the sound.

"My dear daughter. Such fight. Such spirit."

Namette gulp, eyes dashing towards the sound of the new voice, a voice Namette almost recognized as one Namette sometimes heard over the phone back home, asking how Nametter day was as Namette waited for Nametter mother to be able to pick up from the kitchen...

A man appears from behind Markus, squeezing his shoulder who bows his head and takes a few steps back. His shudder was obvious. Namette don't know what was going to happen. But Nametter gaze was soon diverted to the man standing in front of Namette, dressed completely in silver. The robe shines in the light of the candles, the necklace around his throat chiming lightly as a bell and a cross clinked together.

It's like looking at a much older, male and broken picture of Felicity, the resemblances strong. The same nose and lips, the same hair color which was barely visible under the hood.

"Y-Namette... Namette're my father."

A laugh breaks out of the man and the humming stops briefly as murmurs follow Nametter statement.

"Yes, my child, I am. Namette have grown to be such a beautiful Nametteng lady Namette. The [Last name]'s have kept me informed of how Namette were doing. Lovely couple they are. Thought it better to let Namette live a normal life, instead of letting Namette know Namette were adopted. I never minded. Two children would be too much for me and my salary." he chuckles, running a hand through Nametter hair. Namette don't know when he had stepped closer, but he had. It was unnerving.

"But enough reminiscing, my child. Namette must understand that this is no light matter." he signals the group, who start the humming almost immediately, then bends down to whisper in Nametter ear.

"Tell me, child, will Namette kill both the demon that bred Namette and the demon that resides in Namette?" he whispers, his foul breath making the hair on Nametter neck stand.

"N-no. Why are Namette d-doing th-"

Nametter question is cut short as Nametter hair catches fire from the candle he's holding underneath Nametter locks.

It burns.

Namette scream.

"This is only the beginning."

Namette hair is a burnt mess, having let it almost burn to the scalp, areas of Nametter body littered with blisters and open wounds.

Through it all Nametter so called father had informed Namette that the demon had to be willingly expelled by Namette. That Namette had to take its life, by stabbing or by unwanted spontaneous abortion. Although Namette had been in utter pain Namette had still spit in his face. Nametter hatred for this man grew with Nametter pain, but Namette knew it was only a matter of time until Namette caved. Pain was not Nametter forte.

There are numerous cuts on Nametter body, the fleshy part of Nametter hand has been stabbed through. Nametter left eye is swollen shut from a punch of a gauze wrapped hand, which had been soaking with... something, that makes Nametter eye burn and tear.

Namette have not given up, or given in. Nametter breath shudders, pain making Namette shiver but Namette try to stay still so as to not aggravate the wounds. They were all places to cause pain but to not be fatal. Currently boiling water is dripping slowly onto Nametter left thigh, the place the water hit already blistering up, while Nametter right hand is moved over a fire before quickly removing it, before it burns.

They use fire and heat quite a lot don't they?

Namette ask Nametterself why Namette don't just plunge the knife into Nametterself, give them what they want. They promised, through chants and whispers, to stop the pain if Namette did, to give Namette relief. Then Namette had caught a part of the chant that reminded Namette that death was also relief from pain. No matter how many times Namette screamed for them to stop they didn't.

They offered Namette death.

Namette offered them fight.

A commotion to Nametter right makes Nametter head snap up from where it had been resting on Nametter chest. Namette hear a scream then, something Namette can only describe as pain filled, another scream broken by a garbled chocking sound, then silence. Namette can't tell what has happened, Nametter one not swollen eye blurry from tears and pain and the darkness wouldn't have let Namette see clearly anyways. Namette father returns with a bowl of something thick in his hands, which splashes as he walks. Namette stare at him, mind blank and vision blurry, apathetic, pained. He smiles, a sweet smile, before he quickly grabs Nametter chin and tilts Nametter face up. Namette struggle, jostling the knife wound in Nametter right thigh. A quiet scream rips itself from Nametter throat and Nametter father is quick to dump whatever is in the bowl into Nametter mouth.

It's warm. It's thick. It's metallic.

Before Namette can spit it out Nametter father holds Nametter nose closed, Nametter lips sealed. Someone else massages the muscles in Nametter throat, causing Namette to reflexively swallow. Namette gag.

Blood.

"Wh-what-"

The humming picks up again, this time accompanied by the words of Nametter father.

"Oh blood spilled by a sacrifice willingly given, spread inside the child and be rid of the demon. Oh blood from the sacrifice so pure, be rid of the darkness that infests this poor soul and bring us our daughter back." he stops, eyes looking at Namette with a light in his eyes Namette didn't know anyone would possess, sparking with hatred, love and madness. Complete and utter madness. He grabs something from someone and lays it on Nametter lap.

Markus's lifeless eyes, blank and pale, look back at Namette.

Namette bend over and throw up, Nametter vomit coming up with the blood Namette had been forced to swallow.

Markus's blood.

And as Nametter father deems it the right time to stab Nametter left arm and burn Nametter right hand, registering someone else forcing more blood down Nametter throat, Nametter mind finally, blissfully, decides it is time to end this suffering.

Nametter eyes close on the face of a grinning man, drawing strange symbols on Nametter bleeding skin with the blood of a man Namette had never known too well. This man was someone who may have given Namette Nametter genes, but was bent on making Nametter life living hell.


	27. Chapter 26

THIS STORY HAS BEEN BASTARDIZED BY FANFICTION dot NET! FOR THE CORRECT, BETTER, VERSION VISIT ANY OTHER DECENT FANFICTION SITE SUCH AS: Archive of Our own, or DeviantART.

Chapter 26.

Namette open Nametter eyes but Namette can't see anything. Namette hear sounds, screams, gunshots and the sound of roaring fire. Nametter body burns, everything hurts. Namette can't move so Namette decide not to.

Namette close Nametter eyes and let everything fade away again.

Someones moving Namette, Nametter arms have lost their feeling. Namette open Nametter mouth to scream, to plead, to tell whoever it is Namette will do whatever they want, to please, please, stop. Nametter voice doesn't break, not even a garble. Namette don't feel the prick on Nametter neck.

Lights and loud horns, Namette don't know what's going on. Nametter eyes are blurry, Nametter arms can't move. Namette feel the arms of someone, the scent of someone who Namette hadn't seen in long surrounding Namette... and smoke, so much smoke. Namette want to cough but Namette can't, Nametter life singles down to a pinpoint of pain. Namette close Nametter eyes and let go.

"Namette..."

It's so far away, the sound of a voice of someone Namette know Namette love. Namette want to follow it, Namette see blue behind Nametter closed eyelids, then red. Namette open Nametter eyes and see a blue mask, black tears falling onto Nametter cheeks. Namette try to smile, try to say his name. His bends forwards and kisses Namette, lifting his mask enough to let him touch his lips to Nametters. It's gentle.

His face is replaces by red and blue lights, then by a face Namette know all to well.

Namette want to call Nametter friends name, but Namette can't. She's holding Namette.

As the ambulance pulls in Namette fade out again.

Nametter eyes blink open. It's dark wherever Namette are, soft beeping coming from somewhere. Namette'd panic, but Namette're too tired and this isn't the place where Nametter father had taken Namette. Markus' head was somewhere, burnt into Nametter mind, but not close to Namette. Namette closed Nametter eyes and fell asleep.

"No, shhhh, Namette'll wake her up."

"But I need to-"

"No, listen, she's been out for days, let her rest. If she wakes up, I'll let Namette know."

"But I-"

"Ja-" a cough breaks the word before Namette can finish it. Almost instantly a hand holding a small wet cotton pad is held to Nametter mouth. Namette look up, connecting the voices to two of the most important people in Nametter life, Jess and Jack. Jess is holding out the cotton pad to Nametter lips.

"Namette need to suck on this first before I give Namette the water Namette." she says gently and Namette carefully pry Nametter mouth open. Everything's fuzzy, and as Namette slowly regain some moisture in Nametter mouth Nametter mind frantically tried to repress the memories of the last... hours?... days?... Nametter mouth now sufficiently moisturized Jess holds a straw to Nametter lips. As the incredible thirst had subsided slightly with the cotton pad Namette didn't gulp down the contents greedily.

"H-how-" Nametter voice still broke, Namette felt so weak and ridiculous. Jack shook his head, sitting on the edge of the bed and laying a careful hand over Nametter stomach.

"A few days... Namette've been in an out of consciousness." his calm, deep, voice relaxed Namette, moving Nametter bandaged arm to lay Nametter hand on his.

"Wh-what about the-" Namette looked down, ashamed, worried, scared. His hand tightened around Nametters making Namette hiss as the wounds tightened. He relaxed his hold but didn't move his hand.

"It... It's fine, they're... they're little fighters they are." Jess said, sitting on the chair on the other side of Nametter bed.

"They?" Namette ask, eyes drooping, tired.

"They don't want to confirm yet, but yes... they... twins..." Jack interrupted Jess just as she was about to speak, earning himself a glare.

"Namette.. want... them...?" Namette ask, yawning and reclining further in the bed. Namette couldn't see the smile adorning his face. But Namette did hear his words.

"More than anything in this world."

It was a couple of hours later, rested and feeling slightly better, that the cops decided to ask what had happened. Unsure what to say, Namette stuck to the half truth, that Namette had been abducted, kept isolated from the world, and that a crazy man had tried to kill Namette or exorcise Namette or something of the sort. Namette didn't tell them much, not that Namette could. The memories of the time spent in Nametter fathers presence are fuzzy, cloudy, like something was trying to keep Namette from remembering fully. It feels weird, because although Namette can tell something is amiss, although Namette know, in theory, what had happened, Nametter mind automatically draws a blank or thinks of something completely unrelated. Namette don't blame it, Namette don't pry too hard into Nametter own memories.

Jess remained almost day and night with Namette. When Namette finally managed to convince her to go home she only did so reluctantly, making sure to leave her laptop with Namette, her blog open so Namette'd take a look at it and so Namette could talk. Her Livejournal glared, blue, the link at the top, insistent in its presence.

The doctors however, come and go, doing routine checks, telling Namette that Namette were pregnant, that Nametter children were safe and ok, although with some oddities that they will have to check further along the pregnancy to be able to determine the source, and that, indeed, it was twins. They couldn't determine the sex, but Namette didn't particularly care.

They were safe. After all of this, after all the suffering, the pain, the torture that Namette couldn't remember, they were safe. Nametter sigh of relief was followed but the similar tears that night when Jack climbed into the room. Jess had finally gone home for a shower, some food and much deserved rest.

The sight of his unmasked face had Nametter eyes tear up almost instantly. He held a lovely Butterfly Weed bouquet, a single black rose in the middle. It was beautiful. And as he held Namette as Namette laughed, as Namette cried, as all Nametter pain and fear and anguish came crashing down on Namette, Namette didn't know what to do with Nametterself. And as Jack holds Namette close, his hands gently craddling Nametter stomach, he spoke to the life growing inside of Namette.

"I promise to always keep Namette safe."

He looked up at Namette, his non existing eyes dripping in black, a small loving smile on his lips that took Nametter breath away and calmed Nametter bretahing.

"So, uh... what happened?" Nametter question obviously catches Jack by surprise, who is laying down next to Namette, 3 days after Namette had woken up, hands wrapped around Nametter waist and laying securely on Nametter stomach. Nametter wounds are healing nicely, Namette're deemed safe to leave in a few days Namette've been guaranteed.

"I uh..." he laughs, embarrassed, before grabbing Nametter wrist gently, tapping on the bell.

"Tracking chip." he mumbles, pressing his face to Nametter neck. Namette chuckle, slightly creeped out but very glad for his psychotic stalker behavior which had definitely saved Nametter, and Nametter babies, life.

"And?" Namette question, wanting more information.

"Don't worry about it... just... he won't be ever bothering Namette anymore."

Namette don't pry any further. His kiss to Nametter shoulder makes Namette smile in bliss.

His words, however, almost get lost on Nametter mind, drifting to sleep in his arms.

"It's alright now, I've got Namette. And I won't let Namette go again. Never again."

The day Namette're given the go to leave the hospital Namette're wondering why Nametter parents haven't called or visited. Namette don't really pay it much attention, since they were probably, again, on an extended honeymoon. The police had left a voice message and a letter, Namette had done the same. Namette would ask Jack to go visit Nametter parents, but for now, Namette needed to rest. Namette were sure Nametter parents would be ecstatic to become grandparents. Namette really wished to tell them.

Before Namette had left Jess had insisted on Namette taking her phone so Namette could stay in touch. Namette didn't complain, enjoying browsing the internet, her blog open, the link making itself present for Namette again.

The drive back to the river however is long. Jack lets Namette see Nametter surroundings, where Namette're going, the world outside flying past Namette in blurs of color. Namette body is sore but relaxed, some soft music playing over the radio. Namette wouldn't mind spending the rest of Nametter life like this... calm.

Eight months later, the sound of two crying voices fills the cabin.

Namette don't know who the nurse is, or why she is shaking, or why she seems to be so afraid. Namette don't care.

The babies, twins indeed, are beautiful. They're small and and their skin is a light grey, and they have small, pointed teeth. They're girls, Nametter pained, tired mind screams at Namette, a smile spreading over Nametter lips as Namette cry. Namette are not sure if it's out of happiness or pain.

"Felicity and Nadia."

Namette smile as Jack moves to Nametter side, taking one of the girls, Felicity, into his arms, a look of pure amazement on his features. The endless tears of his have stopped falling, just as Nametters begin to flow over Nametter cheeks.

Namette barely hear the commotion as the door is closed.

"These are perfect names, Namette." he mumbles. Namette hear awe in his voice, and love.

A dozen black roses adorn the room, their scent sweet.

"I love Namette, Jack." Namette mumble, handing Nadia over to her father. Namette are tired beyond belief. Namette'll just rest a bit. Namette have years to spend with Nametter family.

Namette spend a few moments to ponder what Nametter baby girls will eat, before Namette drift off into sleep, as Jack smiles at Namette in gratitude.

"Good night, my sweet silver memory."

The End.


	28. Epilogue

THIS STORY HAS BEEN BASTARDIZED BY FANFICTION dot NET! FOR THE CORRECT, BETTER, VERSION VISIT ANY OTHER DECENT FANFICTION SITE SUCH AS: Archive of Our own, or DeviantART.

The End.

Dear Namette,

I've met with a terrible fate. And I've been the cause for several of them myself.

it's been... years since I've last talked to Namette, even in thoughts. 12 years I think, maybe 13. Namette lose track of time when Namette're running. I'm so tired of running... of hiding... of not living. I lost everything Namette... I've lost so much and caused so much pain.

Nametter children though, they're beautiful. Felicity and Nadia have grown into beautiful Nametteng women, though I can see that Felicity is more of the Big Sister of the two. It would make sense in a way, she was the oldest wasn't she? Theyr skin is a beautiful silvery grey, teeth sharp and small and white. They don't look much like Namette to be honest... their eyes do though. Those eyes that I always loved so much form my best friend. Gods how I miss seeing Namette smile and laugh.

I don't think Namette have an idea what a shock it was to hear several news on the TV. It was the only thing that told me to run. I'm happy I did. But no matter how much I ran, they'd find me and I'd have to run again... I caused so much pain Namette.

Cath... Nametter team lead. Drowned I think? I'm unsure, but it was weird. They just found her, in her living room, lungs full o water... dead... I didn't know her too well though. I knew Namette didn't know her well either. It still came as a shock when a mutual acquaintance told me of her death, not long after Nametter disappearance.

I haven't heard from Nametter family... I'm starting to doubt I ever will... actually I know I never will... it's been 12 years... 12 years of them being officially declared missing after Namette had been found...

Uhm, Ange was found a few weeks after Namette were found at the silver factory, her organs missing. I'm unsure what happened to Nametter other housemates though. The house has been empty for years, and I was no friend of theirs but as far as I understood they've been missing as well. Maybe I'm not the only one running.

At least I didn't see her rotting.

Not like Namette... hollowed, rotten... dead...

I wish Namette had killed them... all of them. Nametter father, Jack, Markus... me... I wish they, we, would all be rotting now, instead of... Namette...

I don't know why I'm writing this. I just miss Namette. Sometimes someone teases me with pictures of Namette, of recordings of Namette. He used to do the same thing after I'd gone to the facility. They thought I was crazy Namette know, when i started talking about a man with no eyes, of how he'd killed Namette, of the blue mask. They all thought I was crazy, the police, they... And then, I was saved... I wish I had stayed there, to die. But I didn't... I caused so much pain Namette.

And that note, his words, the note Namette had held clutched in Nametter rotten hands, Nametter flesh falling off onto the floor. I can still see it now, in front of me, it'll always haunt me:

"Thank Namette for having given me what I always wanted, something the like of my own"

He didn't even wait five months until... after they... were born.

It's been so long running. I know they're after me, I knew then and I can tell Namette, I know it now. Everyone I touch dies, everyone I meet disappears. I have to be cursed, I must be cursed because I caused it all. Giving someone an innocent little game, gone, selling my house to someone, gone, causing a car accident and apologizing to the sister, gone, being saved from insanity... gone... And there are so many more! So much pain, so much death...

But I'm happy, Namette. I must stop running now. I must give in, stop this madness, stop being the cause for so much, stop missing Namette all the time. At least when I die, it'll be while staring into Nametter eyes, doubled, in front of me, looking into the eyes of my dead best friend. Of the one who started it all.

Oh! They cry black. That's... interesting...

So I'm glad Namette heard my story, that Namette stuck through and read every word. I wonder if Namette, Namette, ever thought of Nametter dear old friend Jess, if she missed Namette.

I do. I miss Namette.

And I'm glad Namette decided to look for me, to know what happened, for everything to be revealed.

I'm happy Namette decided to know the real truth.

But.

Heh.

Namette shouldn't have done that.


End file.
